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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358693">Push and Pull</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond'>sherlockpond</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Kissing, Love, M/M, Memory Loss, References to Depression, Reunions, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood), Slow Burn, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been nearly a year since Ianto Jones died at Thames House. And nearly six months since Captain Jack Harkness left Gwen Cooper sobbing on a hillside on the outskirts of Cardiff. For Jack, the days are blurring into one, alcohol all tastes the same, and there’s not much point to anything. Until Jack’s reluctantly dragged back to Earth.</p>
<p>Homeless people are being taken off the streets, but no one really seems to care. Not until a man appears, a man who should be dead and buried. </p>
<p>Who’s behind the disappearances? Why are they happening to begin with? And how can a man who’s been dead for nearly a year be standing next to a gravestone marked with his name? A name he doesn’t remember.</p>
<p>[Set between Children of Earth and Miracle Day]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>217</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So here it is, the story I've been working on for the past few weeks. I've pretty much completed it, so updates should be pretty regular. There's about twenty chapters, but don't let that put you off - I've tried to make it as action-packed as possible. There might be a bit of OOC, and I apologise, I've tried to keep it as true to character as possible.</p>
<p>Big thanks to Alicia for beta-ing! Make sure to give her a look on tumblr: flamingbluepanda.tumblr.com</p>
<p>This is my attempt at writing a Torchwood mini-series. </p>
<p>Big Finish - hire me!</p>
<p>Yeah, so please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b> <em>"There is something inside of me, it howls and aches. Sometimes it quiets, but it never leaves."</em> </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b> <em>artemius.tumblr.com</em> </b>
</p>
<p>After eleven months, hyper-vodka loses its appeal.</p>
<p>Jack Harkness props himself up against a bar in some unknown galaxy, his brain swimming in alcohol, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.</p>
<p>The bartender takes his half-full glass from him, chucks it down the sink. Jack tries to stop them but his limbs are heavy and drunk, he lets out a grunt and almost chins himself on the bar instead.</p>
<p>When Jack summons the energy to raise his head, the bartender fixes him with a firm look. </p>
<p>“I think you should probably call it a night,”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Noooo, c’mon, we’re having a good time,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p><em>Ianto sighs “I think you’re so far gone,</em> even I <em>couldn’t catch up with you right now,”</em></p>
<p>
  <em> Jack throws him a drunken, flirty smile “I’ll let you catch up with me anyday,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto lets out a quiet laugh and takes him by the hand through the Hub “Come on, you’re so drunk even your pick-up lines have lost their effect,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack stumbles and holds a hand over his heart dramatically “I’m insulted!” </em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Uh-huh. Let’s just get you into bed,” the younger man tugs Jack towards his office.  </em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack tows behind, stopping just before the climb down to his bunk.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Will you be staying tonight, Mr Jones?” Jack asks as salaciously as possible.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It doesn’t work.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Reaching to slowly pull off Jack’s greatcoat, Ianto scoffs “So I can have your grabby hands all over me and then wake up to you smelling like a bar? No, thank you. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow if you’re not too hungover... can you get hungover?”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack tries for a shrug but it looks more like a twitch, Ianto’s lips for an unimpressed, thin line.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I promise I won’t be grabby,” Jack says, putting on his best facade of innocence.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p><em> He’s met with suspicion “Hmmm, somehow I </em> don’t <em> believe you,”</em></p>
<p>
  <em> “Please stay,” Jack lets out a hiccup, he covers his mouth - embarrassed. </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I can’t,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Why?” Jack whines.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Great, now he sounds like a child.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p><em>Ianto looks at him tiredly “It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow, the team might forgive</em> you <em>for moping around, but if it’s both of us, they’ll just be pissed off,”</em></p>
<p>
  <em> Jack just pouts because he doesn’t know what to say.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Now, if I help you take your clothes off, are you going to try and attack me?”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>The alien in front of him blinks, waiting for an answer. A Kabar, if Jack remembers correctly, another stands in the corner. He looks around, he’s in a room - a police station (or the equivalent thereof).</p>
<p>“Sir, I’ll ask you again - if I help you with your clothes, will you comply?” the Kabar asks firmly.</p>
<p>Jack knows the drill by now - he holds his arms out and lets the officer pull off his coat, bundling it up and into an evidence box, followed by his belt and gun. The custody sergeant takes one look at the wrist strap and narrows their eyes, stalking back to their desk. It’s only then that Jack sees the residual blood on his hands and under his fingernails.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how it got there, and surprises himself when he doesn’t care.</p>
<p>They place him in a cell whilst they run their checks. Jack stares at the wall opposite, the scrubs they’ve given him itch against his skin, and he feels a cold chill settle over him. </p>
<p>There’s whispering from the cell next to him, he tilts his head to catch the words.</p>
<p>“- - be okay, I’m okay, everything’s okay,”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Ianto?”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The younger man looks up, caught. He’s holding onto the coffee machine, knuckles white, grounding him.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack gives him a terse look “You okay?”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto visibly swallows and pries his hands off the machine in front of him “Yeah. Just... having a moment,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack looks around, Owen’s busying himself in the med bay, Gwen’s tapping away on her computer - Tosh’s got the day off, her computer sits idle.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He looks back at Ianto “Want to talk about it?”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “No. Not really, sir,” Ianto says, picking up a tea towel and running it over the already clean coffee bench.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack gives him a displeased look, Ianto nods knowingly.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p><em> “ </em> Jack <em> ,” he corrects himself.</em></p>
<p>
  <em> Jack reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but Ianto shrugs it off.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Talk to me,” Jack says quietly.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto looks a little taken aback, he’s never heard Jack beg for anything, not really, he slings the tea towel over the end of the coffee machine and sighs.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Let me help you,” Jack adds and Ianto’s shoulders sag, he looks defeated.</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “There’s nothing you can do,”</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>The sound of a key in a lock rouses Jack from the memory.</p>
<p>A Kabar officer looks pissed off as it continues the conversation with their shift partner.</p>
<p>“Like I said, there’s nothing you can do once one of <em> their </em>lot pokes their nose in.” they reiterate, nodding towards Jack “you can try to negotiate with them, but they’re not worth the time. Just get his stuff and hand him over,”</p>
<p>Jack looks at the officer, confused “What’s going on?”</p>
<p>The officer snorts “You flagged up a warrant. Someone’s here to collect you,”</p>
<p>
  <em> Collect him?</em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” </p>
<p>The officer shrugs “Don’t know. Don’t care. Take your stuff,” they gesture to their partner who holds out a bag filled with Jack’s clothes and personal effects “they’re waiting for you at the custody desk,”</p>
<p>Jack pauses for a second and then takes the bag from the other Kabar officer, he follows the exit signs in a daze.</p>
<p>“Can never tell which are which,” he hears one of the officers say behind him “they all look the same to me,”</p>
<p>Jack rolls his eyes and turns a corner.</p>
<p>“Christ, you’re a mess,” says an underwhelmed voice.</p>
<p>John Hart stands in the middle of Kabar custody with a sour expression, he’s swapped his usual red Nepolionic jacket for a beaten brown leather one.</p>
<p>“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” he adds bitterly.</p>
<p>“How did you find me?” Jack asks, the sergeant behind the desk looks up and their eyes flick between the two of them.</p>
<p>“Let’s take this outside,” John says, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and throws Jack a look.</p>
<p><em> Play along, </em> his expression says.</p>
<p>Jack narrows his eyes and hands over his bag of clothes, letting John snap the cuffs onto his wrists, not missing the way he surreptitiously waggles his eyebrows. He tugs Jack by the scruff of his scrubs and marches them out. Jack can’t help but feel anger bubble under his skin - John is quite possibly the <em> last </em>person he wants to see right now.</p>
<p>John steers him towards a transport pod, Jack gives him a sideways look and John rolls his eyes and the door opens.</p>
<p>“Get in,” John says, shoving him slightly. Jack grits his teeth and does as he’s told. </p>
<p>The other man follows behind and the door snaps shut behind them, the flight deck wakes and lights spring to life around them. The hull of the pod is fairly spacious, Jack looks at John.</p>
<p>“I’m waiting for an explanation,” he says impatiently.</p>
<p>John lets out an exasperated sigh “God, I do <em>one</em> nice thing - -,”</p>
<p>“<em> Why </em>?” Jack demands.</p>
<p>John looks down momentarily, and then back up at Jack “I went back to Earth - to see you. Bumped into Welsh Bambi, she told me what happened,” he pauses “I’m sorry, Jack... for your loss,”</p>
<p>Jack laughs coldly “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“No, really. I know how much he meant to you,” John looks like he might try to hug him and then thinks better of it, instead he pulls out the key for the handcuffs from his pocket “I’d offer to keep them on, but I don’t think now’s the time,”</p>
<p>Jack raises an eyebrow “Is it me, or have you grown a conscience?” </p>
<p>“Hey, I just saved you.” John snaps, taking the cuffs roughly and then chucking Jack his clothes “now get changed, you never could pull off a uniform that wasn’t military,”</p>
<p>Jack snorts as John slides into the cockpit seat, flicking switches, pressing buttons. Jack pulls the prison grade scrub top over his head and retrieves his own button up shirt out of the bag, threading his arms through, tired fingers fumbling as he does it up.</p>
<p>“Although, don’t hurry on my account,” Jack looks up to see John leering at him.</p>
<p>Jack gives him a deadpan look “Some things never change,”</p>
<p>John smirks, before turning back to the controls “And they never will,<em> sweetie </em>,”</p>
<p>He puts the ship into flight and they slowly move up into the atmosphere. Jack hasn’t got changed in the back of a ship for a long time, he hops into his trousers (nearly falling over a few times). He hears John chuckle quietly and for a second, Jack feels like no time has passed between them at all.</p>
<p>“How did you find me?” Jack asks as he sits down in the seat next to John, watching the curve of the planet below transition from sky to space. </p>
<p>“When I realised you weren’t on Earth, I tracked your manipulator...speaking of - ,” he reaches into his back pocket and pulls Jack’s wrist-strap out, holding it behind him blindly. Jack snatches a bit less than what’s considered polite and wraps it around his wrist, securing it deftly.</p>
<p>Jack watches as they drift towards the darkness, he chews the inside of his cheek for a second “What did Gwen say?”</p>
<p>John turns to look at Jack, his face grim “She told me you’d lost him during the fight. And then your grandson the next day.”</p>
<p>Jack’s jaw tenses, he looks dead-ahead - willing the fresh tears to dissipate. He’s tired of crying.</p>
<p>“I know why you did what you did.” John says, and Jack’s never heard him sound so genuine “but I don’t think you’d have done it if he hadn’t died first. He would have stopped you,”</p>
<p>“Ianto,” Jack says softly, feeling hollow “not <em> him </em> or <em> he </em>. Ianto.”</p>
<p>John nods and turns back to steer “Gwen said you didn’t go to the funeral,” purposefully leaving out ‘<em> I didn’t see you there’ </em>.</p>
<p>Jack shakes his head minutely “No,” he tries not to sound ashamed.</p>
<p>“She mentioned that you’d closed the Rift in the city,” John adds, pushing down the accelerator.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jack breathes, his lungs clench, thinking back “I had help,”</p>
<p>John glances across quizzically but doesn’t press. Jack sniffs and runs a hand over his eyes.</p>
<p>“There’s a bed in the back, you look terrible. Catch up on some sleep, I’ll give you a shout when we arrive,”</p>
<p>“Where are we going?”</p>
<p>John smirks “Back to Earth,”</p>
<p><b></b> <br/><br/></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Against his will, Jack's back on Earth. </p>
<p>Time to face reality, and find out the real reason he's been brought back.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short one today!</p>
<p>I'm going to upload a chapter a day, I think, until further notice. </p>
<p>If you enjoyed the first chapter, be sure to spread the word on tumblr/twitter/discord - we've got a week till the next Big Finish release and I'm hoping this is quench people's thirst between now and then!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m not going,” Jack says resolutely.</p>
<p>John rolls his eyes “See, <em> this </em> is why I didn’t want to tell you, I knew you’d throw a tantrum. My ship, my rules. It’s Gwen...she wants to see you,”</p>
<p>“No,<em> no way </em>. Take me back!” Jack tries to grab the controls, but John pushes him back, hits the autopilot and gets out of the seat. </p>
<p>“I promised her,” he says holding his hands up, blocking the flight controls “she just wants to talk,”</p>
<p>Jack shakes his head “I’ve got nothing left to say to her,” he tries to get past to the cockpit but John shoves him harder this time.</p>
<p>“I know you’re scared! But you can’t hide from it for the rest of your life!” </p>
<p>Jack lunges and John kicks his legs out from underneath him, Jack lands on his back with a groan. John reaches into his pocket and holds down the older man as he pulls out a clear sticker, a green moon adorns the left side.</p>
<p>
  <em> Sleep (40). </em>
</p>
<p>“No, <em> no, </em> don’t you <em> dare </em>,” Jack growls, but John’s too quick, he deftly presses the patch onto Jack’s neck - his limbs grow heavy instantly, his struggles weaken. </p>
<p>John sighs, running a hand through Jack’s hair “I can’t bear to see you like this.” he says as Jack lets out a small whimper, his eyes closing “<em> that’s </em> why I’m doing it,” </p>
<p>Jack’s head falls to one side and John carefully lays it on the floor, he looks over his ex-partner for a few seconds - watching his chest rise and fall before sighing and moving back to the ship’s controls.</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack wakes from the deepest sleep in weeks, his limbs feel loose and warm, he inhales deeply - the smell of fresh sheets and skin makes him smile. The duvet over him is heavy, weighing down on his body, keeping his body at a pleasant temperature. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> His eyes fall on the body next to his. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto. He looks so young when he’s sleeping. Jack resists the temptation to run his fingers across exposed skin, instead shuffling closer to share his body heat. The younger man hums as he begins to wake, his eyes crack open a little. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Go back to sleep,” Jack says quietly, tucking Ianto’s head under his chin and wrapping an arm around his waist, rubbing soothing patterns into his skin. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto hums again and pushes his face into Jack’s shoulder, he feels him take a deep breath in and then feels Ianto’s lips brush his skin.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack smiles and closes his eyes, wishing with all his might that he could bottle this moment. Keep it forever. </em>
</p>
<p>Jack wakes with a start and his hand flies to his neck, immediately fumbling to peel off the sticker, he wrinkles his nose as the stickiness pulls at the soft skin. He forgoes slow and rips it off, hissing when it yanks out a few hairs.</p>
<p>He looks around, the ship’s empty, he gets onto his feet and looks out.</p>
<p>They’ve landed in a field. Grass bursting verdantly, trees punctuate the perimeter. There’s a few white blobs in the distance on further fields.</p>
<p>Sheep.</p>
<p>And upon closer inspection, yellow flowers sway and nod in the breeze under a blue, cloudless sky; a single sun sits high in the sky. </p>
<p>Jack feels fear and shame creep into the pit of his stomach.</p>
<p>He flicks the switch for the hull door and steps into the blinding sunshine, but it doesn’t warm him in the same way that used to. He squints and looks around, watching the door behind him snap shut and the pod disappears. Well, a cloaking device is probably for the best.</p>
<p>Jack spots a cottage not too far away, perched higher than the road, surrounded by fields similar to the one they’ve landed in. A wooden farm gate lies ahead of him, he wanders over, and he thinks better than to vault over it, slotting his foot onto a bar and then swinging his legs over - his boots landing on a dirt track. He assumes the track leads to the cottage, there’s no other visible houses so he takes a wild guess that this is the new Cooper-Williams residence. </p>
<p>He walks slowly, unsure if he eventually <em> wants </em> to get to the threshold. The sun’s beating down on him and he slips off his coat, slinging it over his arm - the breeze catches his shirt and makes him shiver, but it’s not unpleasant. </p>
<p>Sparrows call from hedgerow to hedgerow, a few trees lining the track sway in the early summer breeze. Jack takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself - every atom of him doesn’t want to be here, the thought of running back to the transporter pod and escaping crosses his mind but he knows it’d only be a matter of time before John would track him down again. Plus, he isn’t sure if he can remember how to hot-wire a spacecraft anymore.</p>
<p>The cottage grows closer and the knots in Jack’s stomach tense and contract. He clicks open the garden gate, it groans, and he closes it behind him. He takes a breath and walks up the garden path.</p>
<p>He pauses before knocking on the door, he spots his reflection in the glass and quickly flicks his hair into some semblance of array. Jack raises his hand and knocks twice.</p>
<p>Footsteps approach quickly, and the lock clicks. The door swings open and Gwen Cooper stands in the doorway, her face a confusing mixture of emotions, but mostly she looks relieved.</p>
<p>“Jack,” she says softly.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Jack says numbly.</p>
<p>She sighs and shakes her head before pulling him into a warm embrace “God, I’ve missed you,”</p>
<p>They stand there for a minute or so, Gwen presses her face into his shoulder and Jack wraps his arms around her. They stand on the front porch of a small cottage in the Welsh hills just holding each other. When they pull apart Gwen’s eyes are red-rimmed, Jack smiles at her sadly.</p>
<p>“Did it work?” she asks, and Jack’s suddenly transported to a cold night on a hill overlooking Cardiff.</p>
<p>He thinks for a second and then shakes his head “No.”</p>
<p>She holds out her hand “Come on,”</p>
<p>Jack takes her hand and lets her lead him inside, nudging the door shut on the way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>They walk through a small but cosy living room and into a rustic kitchen, Jack smiles a little when he notices a photo of Tosh and Owen stuck to the fridge with a Welsh dragon magnet, and then spots another of Ianto passed out on the sofa - his mouth open, drooling into the fabric. A black moustache drawn under his nose in permanent marker, two sluggish eyebrows added as a final flourish. He <em> remembers </em> that night, he remembers how hard they’d all laughed whilst Ianto had tried to scrub it all off. </p>
<p>The memory makes his chest hurt.</p>
<p>Sunlight pours in from the window at the far end of the room overlooking the valley, John stands against the cupboards looking sheepish and holding a full mug, Rhys sits on the counter holding his own mug, a baby monitor sits silently next to him.</p>
<p>A heavy, oak kitchen table sits unoccupied, littered with papers and reports. Jack spies Tosh’s Torchwood PDA and the language cracking/lock-picking device.</p>
<p>“Rhys,” Jack gives him a curt smile and nod and gets one in return. </p>
<p>The kitchen lapses into silence.</p>
<p>John looks at Gwen and nods at her, urging her to speak. </p>
<p>She rolls her eyes and looks back at Jack.</p>
<p>“Jack…,” Gwen begins, but when she meets his gaze she falters, he knows he looks like shit, beaten, patches of blood on his hands, bags under his eyes, not to mention the state of his coat.</p>
<p>Rhys looks between John and Gwen as they fall into silence once more.</p>
<p>“Bloody useless, you two are,” he says, sliding off the sideboard and onto the flagstone floor, he moves to the kitchen table and picks up the PDA, tapping the screen.</p>
<p>“Two weeks ago, Gwen noticed that there was a signal being traced on this,” Rhys says, tutting when the device beeps angrily at him “bugger,” he tries again and succeeds “ah, here it is,”</p>
<p>Rhys holds the PDA for Jack, Jack doesn’t take it but instead looks at Gwen.</p>
<p>“You bought me back for this?” he asks, disappointed.</p>
<p>“Look, just take the bloody thing and look at the trace,” John says impatiently and Jack throws him a glare, but John looks <em> worried </em>.</p>
<p>“Jack,” Rhys says, still holding out the device, he gestures more firmly and Jack sighs and takes the PDA from him and looks down at it..</p>
<p>Jack freezes, he looks over the signal information “That’s not...that’s not possible,” he whispers, tapping at the screen, he stops and his eyes search the screen “I don’t - that’s… it’s impossible,”</p>
<p>Gwen looks at him, concern written deep across her face “Jack, what’s wrong?”</p>
<p>Jack looks up from the PDA and all three of them are looking right back at him, Rhys looks worried and John is watching him cautiously.</p>
<p>“According to this...Ianto... might still be alive,”</p>
<p>Anwen Cooper-Williams has spectacular timing, even for an infant, because at that exact moment she starts to scream into the baby monitor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More coming tomorrow!</p>
<p>Kudos/comments/bookmarks are always appreciated, let me know what you think!</p>
<p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When is a dead man not a dead man? When alien technology tells you he's alive.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another short one, I'm sorry! It's worth it, I promise. I need to look over the next chapter before it goes up, I want to make sure it's as close to finished as possible.</p><p>See you tomorrow!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rhys disappears upstairs to subdue Anwen, casting a worried glance around the kitchen before disappearing through the door.</p><p>The room falls into silence.</p><p>Jack looks at Gwen, before pinning John with a look.</p><p>“You knew,” he says, it’s not a question.</p><p>John refuses to make eye contact, he runs his thumb over the paintwork on the mug in his hand “I had a hunch,”</p><p>Jack turns to Gwen “There’s been nothing but this for two weeks?”</p><p>Gwen shrugs, eyes wide “It hasn’t changed, the same consistent signal,” she looks between the two men “how...how is this possible? How can you be certain?”</p><p>Jack looks down at the PDA and then scoffs “Torchwood One,” he says, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and sits down heavily “they marked all their workers,”</p><p>John looks like his hunch has been answered, he nods slowly. </p><p>“The markers were used to track their locations, their health, their sleep.” Jack explains, chuckling coldly “Yvonne was always paranoid. All Torchwood One employees were subjected to basic psychic training as well,”</p><p>When Jack glimpses up Gwen looks like she might be sick “They implanted trackers in their <em> entire workforce? </em> Did they tell them?”</p><p>Jack shrugs “I don’t know. From the way Yvonne used retcon, it could be that some of them knew and others didn’t. Ianto knew. He knew everything that they did to him,”</p><p>“And he never wanted rid of it?” John says, mildly surprised “knew he was kinked,”</p><p>Jack scowls “After the Battle, I don’t think he really thought about it. He only mentioned it a couple of times, he assumed that the technology it was linked to had been destroyed. <em>We...I</em> <em>never </em>considered using that kind of technology for my staff,” he huffs a laugh “Like I wanted to know how little sleep <em>Owen</em> got,”</p><p>Gwen smiles a little, the door to the kitchen springs open and Rhys barges in, Anwen in his arms, she’s still making pitiful noises as he tries to get her to settle.</p><p>“Hungry, I think,” he says, weaving between the other three and popping the fridge open, he takes a bottle out and puts it on the side “don’t let me interrupt,” he adds, opening another cupboard to grab some tupperware, flicking the kettle’s switch on the way.</p><p>“So you’re saying - what? The tracker’s been activated? By who?”</p><p>Jack nods, eyes dark “Something, <em> or someone </em> has reactivated it. We don’t know whether the signal’s accurate, but if it is - this isn’t a fluke. This has been done on purpose, whatever’s behind this - it’s <em> big </em>.”</p><p>“We need to check the grave,” John says, Jack chews his lip and looks solemn.</p><p>“Grave-digging?” Rhys says wincing, the kettle clicks off and he pours the water into the tupperware, dipping the baby bottle in.</p><p>Jack nods “It’s the only way to be sure. Did you manage to triangulate the signal?”</p><p>Gwen shakes her head “I’d need a laptop with the software, I was never any good with that thing,” she nods to the PDA “the most I got was a thirty-mile radius.”</p><p>Jack’s eyes move to the window and the seemingly endless fields “How far away from Cardiff are we?”</p><p>“Enough for it to fall within that radius,” Gwen shifts uncomfortably, she reaches out to run her hand over Anwen’s cheek “looks like retirement lasted less than a year,”</p><p>John sniggers at her “Well we can’t go now, we’ll have to wait until it gets dark,”</p><p>“<em> Y’think </em>?” Jack mocks, all of his anguish and anger boiling over.</p><p>“You know, I didn’t <em> have </em>to go and drag you out of prison,” John snaps back, slamming his hands on the kitchen counter.</p><p>“Prison?” Rhys and Gwen say, heads turning to Jack. Gwen looks angry, Rhys looks as panicked as someone can with a feeding baby in their arms.</p><p>Jack rolls his eyes “It doesn’t matter. What matters now is finding out where this signal is coming from and who’s behind it.”</p><p>There’s a silence and Jack’s almost certain Gwen is going to press him, but she surprises him and lets the subject drop. The only sound is Anwen sucking on her bottle. </p><p>“We should come up with a plan,” Rhys says, taking the now empty bottle and placing it down on the side “can’t just go to a graveyard with a couple of shovels and expect people not to notice,”</p><p>Gwen throws Jack a look “He’s right,”</p><p>“Fine. You two'll keep watch,” Jack says to Gwen and Rhys, he sets his jaw, looking back down at the table “John and I’ll do the rest,”</p><p>“Are you sure you want to be there when we open the coffin?” John asks quietly, eyeing him carefully.</p><p>Gwen looks at John and then at Jack “He’s right, Jack, we don’t know what we’ll find. Maybe it’s for the if best you wait here,” she walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder “just in case,”</p><p>“No. I need to know,” Jack says resolutely and Gwen doesn’t argue, John shrugs.</p><p>“Fine,”</p><p>“Well, there’s a long time between now and tonight, I’ll get a pot of tea on the go,” Rhys says, probably a bit more chipper than the situation allows for. He plops Anwen in her high-chair and picks up the kettle again, and sticks it under the tap, filling it up. Jack puts his hand over Gwen’s and stares at the table’s inlay numbly.</p><p>“We’ll figure out what’s going on,” she says even though she’s not sure how to hold out on a promise like that.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The day passes slowly, John ducks out of the house in favour of tinkering with his ship. Jack feels himself relax a bit in his absence. </p><p>They migrate to the living room, it’s rectangular; a worn, soft leather sofa sits at one end opposite the empty fireplace, a coffee table sits between the two, a couple of arm chairs mirrored on either side and TV sits, unused, in the corner. There’s a few mis-matched lamps, one tiffany-style, another with a block red shade, a floor lamp stands behind the TV - clearly an inherited piece with an old fashioned material adorning the top. The room feels homely, inviting, even with furniture that shouldn’t really compliment one another. </p><p>Jack sits in an armchair next to the well-used open hearth, Anwen is plopped on the floor and mugs of fresh tea are handed out. Anwen picks up a few toys, smacks out some semblance of a tune on her tiny xylophone - Jack watches her, feeling hollow again, devoid of any affection.</p><p>Rhys elbows Gwen who turns to give him a sharp look, Rhys flicks his eyes to Jack.</p><p><em> Go on </em> he mouths at her.</p><p>She nods reluctantly “So, Jack, what have you been up to since you left?” (she tries for casual and misses by a country mile).</p><p>Jack scoffs and tears his eyes away from Anwen “Take a wild guess,” he takes a sip of his tea.</p><p>“John said you were in prison?” she tries “what happened?”</p><p>Jack shrugs “Can’t remember. One second I was at a bar, the next thing I know I’m being searched by a Kabar custody officer,”</p><p>Rhys sends an anxious glance at Gwen, she purses her lips before speaking again “It’s really good to see you,”</p><p>Jack doesn’t reply, only drinks more of his tea. Anwen throws a brick across the carpet and he lets out a breathy laugh.</p><p>“We all miss him, you know,” Gwen adds.</p><p>Jack’s head snaps up and he glares at her, he looks like he’s on the verge of either crying or breaking the mug in his hands.</p><p>“And going and trying to bury it all in alcohol and petty crime probably isn’t going to help the pain, <em> especially </em> if this thing tonight turns out to be nothing,” Gwen puts her mug down on the coffee table and scoops up Anwen, passing her to Rhys.</p><p>She crouches in front of Jack, he lets her take his mug and sets it aside, putting her hands in his.</p><p>“You can’t run away from this, not anymore,”</p><p>“I know,” his eyes are rimmed with tears now, Gwen pulls him into a hug.</p><p>They stay like that for a while, Gwen tries to ignore the way Jack is shaking in her arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Always hankering for comments! Let me know what you think! That kudos button wants to be pressed!</p><p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack tries to gets some rest, but the past won't leave him alone.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another day, another chapter. Thank you all for your lovely, lovely comments - I'm so grateful. Please keep letting me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gwen convinces Jack to go and get some rest in the guest bedroom, she follows behind him and helps him with his coat, hanging it up on a hook on the back of the door. </p><p>It’s a simple room, an old double bed with an white-lacquered iron-wrought frame which reminds him of his early Torchwood days (renting a room over a pub). The linen is crisp and white, midday sunlight radiating across the whole room as it bounces off clean sheets, illuminating the room with a glow. A functional dresser sits innocently at the far end of the room next to a door.</p><p>“There’s towels in the ensuite, if you want a shower,” Gwen says, opening the door next to the dresser revealing a small bathroom. </p><p>Jack nods and sits on the bed, Gwen continues “There’s some clothes that I found in Ianto’s flat before we moved everything to storage that I guessed were yours, well more or less, they’re in the top draw of the dresser - just in case you need something fresh to wear. Dump any dirty clothes outside the door and I’ll make sure they’re - -,”</p><p>“- - Gwen, stop,” Jack mutters, Gwen sighs and tilts her head.</p><p>“Just...get some sleep,” she says and then makes her exit, closing the bedroom door behind her.</p><p>Jack closes his eyes and listens to her footsteps as she goes back downstairs. He enjoys the silence, his ears acclimatise to the quiet and somewhere in the distance he hears a clock ticking - he uses the rhythm to help him breathe evenly for a few minutes.</p><p>Eventually he reaches for his boots and pulls them off, before wandering into the bathroom and numbly turning on the shower. He locks the ensuite door and undresses, stepping into the hot water, he shudders as the heat causes goosebumps to break out across his skin.</p><p>
  <em> Ianto stands in front of Jack looking more than a little self-conscious, a towel tucked neatly around his hips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ve never had a shower with someone before,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack smiles “Trust me, it’s nice. I’ll wash your back,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto narrows his eyes and smirks “Are you trying to say my back smells?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If I say yes, will you get in the shower? It’s cold with the door open,” </em>
</p><p><em> Ianto rolls his eyes, drops the towel (his cheeks go a little pink), and steps under the spray. It’s not the most comfortable fit, Jack hisses as his back makes contact with ice-cold tiles but they maneuver until it’s </em> reasonably <em> comfy for them both. </em></p><p>
  <em> The water runs over Ianto’s hair and it sticks to his forehead, he looks impossibly awkward. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack puts his hands on either side of Ianto’s hips and draws him close, he hears the other man gasp as their skin touches. It feels oddly intimate, more intimate than the senseless fucking they were doing no more than twenty minutes before. Jack leans forward to press a kiss to his shoulder and they stand in silence as the water pours over them both, giving Ianto time to acclimatise, desensitise.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When they draw apart, he looks a bit more relaxed, reaching for the shampoo he squeezes some onto his hand and then offers some to Jack who holds out his own hand and rubs it into his hair. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Jack,” Ianto says softly, hair full of soap, a few bubbles stuck to his temples - Jack’s heart swells at the image. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Uh-huh?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not sure I can keep this...separate,” he looks guilty, concerned “you know, from everything else,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack reaches up and motions for him to tilt his head back into the spray, he washes the soap from Ianto’s hair, running his hands through wet strands. The younger man’s eyes shut as he enjoys the sensation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack leans forward, bringing his lips to Ianto’s ear “Then don’t. Let’s see what happens,” </em>
</p><p>Jack opens his eyes as water pours over his body, for the first time in a long time he <em> hurts </em> . He <em> aches </em>. The whole immortality shtick works with physical injury, but he’d never really considered mental or psychological. </p><p>Not until now.</p><p>He stands in the heat for longer than he probably should, hoping it can warm more than just his skin - once upon a time he would have felt bad for using so much hot water but now he doesn’t have the energy. Gathering himself, he turns the water off and opens the shower door, stepping into the cool air, reaching for the promised pile of towels and patting himself down to take the worst of the coldness from his skin.</p><p>The towel goes around his waist, he collects his clothes, and moves through to the bedroom. The dirty clothes are unceremoniously dumped by the door. Jack looks at the clothes on the floor and turns to face the dresser, approaching it slowly. Then cautiously takes a hand and pulls the top draw open. Inside are instantly familiar items, a few white t-shirts, there’s a dark green flannel shirt, a pair of pyjama bottoms and some boxers. He digs deeper, an old pair or jeans, another pair of dress trousers, two pairs of socks and…</p><p>Jack’s heart thumps painfully.</p><p>...Ianto’s favourite <em> Star Wars </em> t-shirt. He pulls it out and holds it up in front of him, memories rush to him and he lets out a small, hurt noise. He pulls the fabric to his chest and then lays it over a nearby chair. Jack plucks a fresh pair of boxers out of the draw, the pyjama bottoms and a fresh t-shirt. He pulls them on and then picks up Ianto’s t-shirt again, walking to the bed and pulling the duvet back. He slides in and rolls onto his side, pulling the t-shirt up to his face and bringing it to his nose. </p><p>The smallest trace of after-shave is left, Jack feels his shoulders shake and the realisation sinks in that he doesn’t have to constantly be on guard now. </p><p>At some point he falls into a discontented sleep.</p><p>
  <em> “I found you something,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Unless it’s a suit to replace the one that got burned last week, I’m not interested,” Ianto looks up from a pile of reports, it’s nearly midnight and Hub is low-lit with hues of red and blue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack pouts, holding his hands behind his back “No, but bear with me,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto puts his pen down and clicks save on his computer screen before leaning back in his chair “Go on, then,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack holds out a mug, it’s bulky and yellow. Ianto takes it from him and inspects it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Is this meant to be C3PO?” </em>
</p><p><em> Jack mocks offence “ </em> <b> <em>That</em> </b> <em> is an original release mug from the first movie. I remembered I’d got it when I was in London back in seventy-seven,” </em></p><p>
  <em> Ianto gives him a sideways but amused look “It’s lovely? Thank you,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack beams. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ll take it home, the last thing I need is Owen ripping into me about yet another part of my life,” Ianto puts the mug down on the workbench (where he knows he won’t knock it over) “we can head home soon - I’m nearly finished,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack waggles his eyebrows “Tired?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Not yet,” Ianto replies smoothly, matching Jack’s insinuation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack’s smile turns flirty “Good,” </em>
</p><p>Jack wakes to the door to the bedroom opening, John stands in the doorway, the sunlight that was once pouring into the room before is gone. Replaced by a blanket of darkness.</p><p>“It’s eight, get dressed - we’re heading off in an hour,” he says before reaching for the bedside table and clicking on the lamp. He gives Jack a half smile as the light illuminates the room, he turns and closes the door quietly making his way back downstairs.</p><p>Wiping his eyes, Jack sits up and takes a second to ground himself. He feels better for the sleep, but now all he wants is to just sleep forever, it’s so warm under the bedsheets and he’d happily lose himself in the darkness if given half the chance.</p><p>Ten minutes later he’s still staring at the wall across the room, and he finally brings himself to swing his legs out the bed. He pulls the duvet up and takes the Star Wars t-shirt and folds in back up, slowly walking to the dresser and replacing it as it was. He pulls out a fresh shirt and notices the clothes he was wearing before are gone.</p><p><em> Gwen </em> Jack thinks absent-mindedly.</p><p>He reaches for the dress-trousers at the bottom of the draw and then one of the navy shirts. He dresses silently, before pulling on his boots, unhooking his coat from the back of the door, and returning the bed back to its original state.</p><p>With one final click of the lamp, the room falls into darkness and Jack heads downstairs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Like what you're reading? Hit that kudos button and/or leave a comment!</p><p>See you tomorrow!</p><p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's time to go grave-digging.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally a meaty chapter for you all to get your teeth into. This is where I get a little worried because this is kind of the catalyst now for the whole story. The reaction to this has been so so lovely and I don't think you all know how much it brightens my day to see someone commenting or leaving a kudos, it makes all the endless hours of writing worth it.</p>
<p>I won't keep you any longer.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack hears heated conversation before he opens the living room door, his hand pauses on the doorknob.</p>
<p>“So Rhys’ll drive Jack in his car, I’ll take John in mine,” Gwen’s voice says.</p>
<p>“Remind me <em> why </em> we’re taking two cars,” John asks, his tone bored.</p>
<p>“Because if this turns into a rescue mission, we’re going to need the extra space,” Gwen replies curtly.</p>
<p>Jack opens the door, forcing down the feeling of hope at the prospect of coming back with an extra person.</p>
<p>“I can drive, I don’t need someone to drive me,” he says, closing the door.</p>
<p>All eyes go to him “Where’s Anwen?”</p>
<p>“I dropped her off earlier, she’s with my Mam and Dad in Swansea,” Gwen tells him, unsurprised by his sudden entrance “til tomorrow afternoon,”</p>
<p>“Driving? In the state you’re in? No way,” Rhys urges firmly “I want my car coming back in one piece, thank you very much,”</p>
<p>Jack rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue - there seems to be a lot of repressed emotions going around today.</p>
<p>“You look better,” Gwen says with a small smile, standing up “but there’s not going to be an argument, Jack you’re with Rhys, Vera’s with me,”</p>
<p>Rhys looks at her “Vera?”</p>
<p>John chuckles, a proper laugh “I thought you’d forgotten,”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Jack goes through to the kitchen and picks up the two devices from the table and pockets them, he walks back through to the living room “we’re going to need tools,”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, mate, I’ve got all the tools you need,” Rhys replies.</p>
<p>Jack snorts dryly, John sniggers, and Gwen’s eyes bug a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>With enough tools to make-over a small garden, they pair off into the allotted cars and drive into the night towards Cardiff. There’s a few minutes of quiet, the radio is off and Jack presses his forehead to the window.</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to say anything at the house, Jack, but I know this is important. Me and Gwen’ll be there for you - regardless of what happens tonight,” Rhys says, it sounds a little forced but mostly genuine “I can’t really speak for your mate, but I’m sure he’ll be there for you, too,”</p>
<p>Jack sniffs “Yeah. Thanks,”</p>
<p>The rest of the journey is spent in an amicable silence, Jack watches non-committedly as the hedgerows pass in the low-light of the headlights.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three-quarters of an hour later they pull up into a small car park. A vast expanse of darkness stretches out in front of them, a heavy set of iron wrought gates mark the beginning of the graveyard. Rhys turns the ignition off and they wait for Gwen to pull in behind. The four of them regroup at the boot of Gwen’s car, she pops it open and hands them each a torch. Jack looks down at the collection of shovels, spades and tarp.</p>
<p>“Take Rhys’s phone, Jack. We’ll call you if we see anything suspicious,” she says, handing over said phone “if you need anything, just ring and we’ll bring it to you,”</p>
<p>Jack looks between them, embarrassment and guilt blooming in his chest “I don’t know where -,”</p>
<p>Gwen’s face drops “You don’t know where he is, do you? Bloody hell, okay, Rhys, stay here,” she checks her own torch “I’ll be back in a few minutes,”.</p>
<p>Jack reaches for a shovel and catches John’s expression in the dim torchlight, the other man looks <em> guilty </em>, Jack’s about to ask but John catches him looking and his face goes passive. Jack puts it to the back of his mind, there’s bigger things to focus on. John grabs the gardening tarp and bundles it under his arm, then takes the other shovel and nods.</p>
<p>Gwen does a quick scout of the area.</p>
<p>“Looks clear, come on,” she says, leading them towards the gates.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few minutes and a rectified wrong turn later, the three stand at the edge of a plot. Gwen looks over them both.</p>
<p>“You be alright if I head back to the car?” she asks, they both nod wordlessly.</p>
<p>“We’ll be fine,” John says, but Gwen’s eyes are on Jack.</p>
<p>“Be careful,” she says “I better get back to Rhys, I’ll see you in a bit,” </p>
<p>Jack nods and casts the torch over the plot “It doesn’t look disturbed. If someone’s been digging here they<em> really </em> don’t want anyone to know about it,”</p>
<p>John sighs, dumping the tarp on the ground. He makes the first cut into the soil “We better get on, then,”</p>
<p>Jack shucks his coat off, tossing it onto dew-wet grass - he rolls up his sleeves.</p>
<p>And they dig.</p>
<p>They dig for what feels like hours, Jack feels cold sweat forming on his back and high up on his neck. He feels on high alert. In the distance there’s a crack of a twig. They both freeze, John takes his torch and shines a torch in the direction of the sound. </p>
<p>Nothing. </p>
<p>Jack lets out a shaky breath, and they both slowly return to work. A crow calls from high up in a tree and Jack smirks when John jumps, scowling at Jack before aggressively spearing his shovel into the soil with more force than necessary. </p>
<p>They continue digging, the dim light from the moon casting dark shadows across the expanse of graves.</p>
<p>Eventually, Jack’s shovel hits something, it gives out a dull thud. </p>
<p>John looks across at him.</p>
<p>Jack goes to crouch down to wipe the dirt, but John catches him by the arm.</p>
<p>“I know why you’re doing this,” he says, and in the half-light Jack can see some distress flit across his features “I just wish I could take some kind of comfort in knowing that if it was me in that coffin, perhaps you’d fight just as hard,”</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t say anything, John looks a little crestfallen.</p>
<p>“Wow. Wonders never cease. You’re not just doing this out of guilt, are you?” John chucks his spade onto the ground above “you’re doing this because you can’t give in to the idea that he’s dead. You know, maybe, <em> just maybe </em> , there’s <em> no way </em> of bringing him back,”</p>
<p>Jack takes the taunts, jaw set.</p>
<p>“Well, go on then,” John reaches, letting go of his arm, moving to the foot of the grave.</p>
<p>Jack brushes the dirt from the top of the casket and slowly a wooden panel comes into view - a tarnished brass plaque appears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto Jones </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> 1983 - 2009 </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jack slides his shovel under the lid, taking a deep breath. He pushes all his weight down onto the handle and the lid creaks, wood begins to splinter, John holds the torch higher and the pressure becomes too great for the craftsmanship to handle.</p>
<p>The lid pops open, the noise echoes around the deserted graveyard. Jack moves to the edge and motions for John to do the same. He takes one more breath and lifts the lid.</p>
<p>
  <em> Empty. </em>
</p>
<p>It’s empty.</p>
<p>Apart from a few nick-nacks, a toy from his niece and nephew, Ianto’s favourite coat and a shoe, the coffin is bare. It smells terrible, but it’s devoid of the body originally placed inside. Jack looks sharply up at John, he looks as stunned as Jack feels.</p>
<p>“The smell of formaldehyde’s making me crave a burger,” John says, brushing the dirt off his hands “what now?”</p>
<p>Jack replaces the lid and hauls himself out of the grave, John follows suit. They look at one another, unsure what to do next.</p>
<p>“Do we refill it?” John says “feels a bit redundant...doesn’t take a genius to notice a recently excavated grave. Plus neither of us are carrying any terraforming tech - -,”</p>
<p>“<em>Shut up</em>,” Jack barks, John grits his teeth but stops talking “they took him. Whoever this is - they <em> took him </em>,”</p>
<p>A footstep sounds behind them.</p>
<p>They both turn.</p>
<p>There’s a dark shape, moving across from the other side of the graveyard.</p>
<p>“You got a gun on you?” Jack hisses.</p>
<p>“<em>Duh</em>,” John sings, reaching behind him.</p>
<p>The figure draws closer. Jack narrows his eyes but draws his own gun out, the figure doesn’t hesitate.</p>
<p>The figure reaches the edge of the shadows. The moonlight casts across them, from what Jack can see the person is dressed in black, head-to-toe. Except for a portion of their upper face, from the bridge of their nose to halfway up their forehead. Jack holds his weapon up.</p>
<p>“Stop,” he shouts “stop right there,”</p>
<p>The figure ignores him and starts jogging, Jack sends off a warning shot but it does nothing to deter the figure. </p>
<p>John leans towards him “Look, we either shoot them, or run,” </p>
<p>Something about the gait of the newcomer is familiar.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Jack says firmly.</p>
<p>The figure suddenly stops twenty foot away, looking at them both. Jack takes a sharp inward breath. </p>
<p>Jack takes a step forward, hesitant. </p>
<p>“Who are you?” </p>
<p>The figure says nothing, just stares.</p>
<p>He takes another step, the figure reaches behind themself and draws a gun, cocks it with minimalistic efficiency and holds it outstretched.</p>
<p>“Do you know who took him?” Jack asks, gesturing to the excavated plot.</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>“You know, guns don’t tend to frighten me as much as they used to,” Jack confesses, taking another step forward. </p>
<p>The figure’s eyebrows knit together momentarily, then clear.</p>
<p>A shot rings out, and Jack winces and groans as the bullet tears through his shoulder, he groans taking another step.</p>
<p>“<em>Jack </em>,” John holds his gun aloft.</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t shoot </em> ,” Jack snaps, bracing his shoulder with a hand “ <b>wait</b>,”</p>
<p>The figure makes a split decision choice, tucks its weapon back behind themselves and lunges for Jack. </p>
<p>Jack drops his gun immediately and they fall into a fist-fight. Jack takes from the frame and the movement that this most certainly is a man. A man who is currently trying to get his hands around Jack’s neck. </p>
<p>The man throws a punch and Jack manages to dodge it and roll them over. He scrabbles to grab at the material covering his face, the man reaches up and applies pressure to Jack’s wound and Jack shouts in pain. He uses the opportunity to land a punch and tries to scramble away.</p>
<p>“<em>Do I shoot </em>?” John growls, gun at the ready.</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t answer so John holsters the weapon and enters the fight. He grabs the man on top of Jack and hauls him off, landing a punch across the face. </p>
<p>Jack gets to his feet as quick as he can.</p>
<p>John gets the upper hand, pinning the man to the floor, and rips the mask from the man’s face.</p>
<p>For a second, everything in the graveyard goes completely silent.</p>
<p>“Eye-Candy?”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you think! I'm intrigued to know. Also, if you haven't left kudos, why not give that button a press? We're a quarter of the way through the story, now!</p>
<p>Ta for reading!</p>
<p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack's got a lot to think about.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Morning!</p>
<p>The last chapter got a lot of people commenting, and I'm so happy about it! Hopefully this one might be able to give you a bit more food for thought!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack stands, dumbstruck as he grabs the torch from the headstone and shines it down at the figure. John holds him down and the light crosses the other man’s face.</p>
<p>“Ianto?”</p>
<p>The man doesn’t react to the name, he does nothing apart from struggle. His knees sharply jabs John in the crotch, hits his intended goal, and then pulls the mask back into place and hurriedly gets to his feet.</p>
<p>There’s a pause where the two men make eye contact. Jack watches as something changes in the man’s eyes, they stand for a few seconds whilst John moans in pain on the floor. </p>
<p> The man turns and runs back towards the shadows.</p>
<p>“Ianto? IANTO!” Jack shouts, the man doesn’t falter or turn once - he disappears into the tree line. </p>
<p>John looks up at him, wincing “Fuck, that hurt,”</p>
<p>Jack reaches down and helps John to his feet, he staggers but manages to stay standing. Jack collects their tools and his coat, forgoing the tarp. The pair break into a run, and don’t stop until they’re back at the cars waiting by the graveyard entrance.</p>
<p>“We’ve got to go. <em> Right now </em>,” Jack says firmly, popping the boot of Rhys’ car and chucking in the tools. </p>
<p>He throws open the passenger door to Rhys’ car and gets in. Rhys looks across at Gwen; she nods, running to her car with John and getting in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rhys speeds out of the graveyard and towards safer ground, Jack watches as the fringes of the city disappear into open expanses of road. He senses Rhys glancing over at him, but favours to ignore it, instead keeping his gaze firmly fixed at the view through the passenger window. His brain going over the events in the graveyard.</p>
<p>
  <em> An empty coffin. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto.  </em>
</p>
<p>The way he’d looked at Jack, like he didn’t remember him. There was no warmth, no recognition. Nothing to suggest that he was anything but a stranger, except for a brief moment when their eyes had met before Ianto had bolted. He thinks of the moment again. The way the Earth had felt like it was standing still, there was no sound, only adrenaline pounding through Jack’s veins.</p>
<p><em> It’s too much of a coincidence </em> he concludes <em> an empty grave and the man who should be in it standing beside it - very much alive but missing something. </em></p>
<p>Jack lets out a long breath, fogging up cold glass as he thinks over the past hour. Streetlights become more infrequent as the car ploughs away from the main hubbub of the city, soon they’re back on the reassuring single track roads, weaving slowly towards the Cooper-Williams residence. Rhys swings the car onto the drive and Jack tries to steel himself, unsure of whether or not he’s ready to talk about what he’s seen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They pile into the cottage, Gwen spins around once they’re in the living room.</p>
<p>“What the hell is going on?” she demands, John looks at Jack.</p>
<p>Jack says nothing, unable to put it into words.</p>
<p>“Jack?” Gwen says, worry obvious in her voice.</p>
<p>“He was there,” Jack finally says, Gwen looks at John.</p>
<p>“Who?” </p>
<p>“Who do you think?” John says sarcastically “Ianto. <em> Definitely </em> alive. Landed one right where it hurts,” he shifts uncomfortably. </p>
<p>Rhys winces in sympathy.</p>
<p>Gwen looks confused “What happened?”</p>
<p>“He shot Jack, kicked me in the balls and ran away,” John says because Jack doesn’t seem able to form words.</p>
<p>“He shot you?” Rhys repeats, looking at Jack who reluctantly nods.</p>
<p>“If he shot you, that means...he didn’t recognise you?” Gwen pieces together, Jack shakes his head, pulling off his coat and draping it over one of the armchairs.</p>
<p>Jack shakes his head, he looks at the three of them “Tomorrow we come up with a plan. I don’t know what’s happened to him, but we’re going to put it right,”</p>
<p>Jack turns his heel, heading for the stairs and the blessed silence of the guest bedroom.</p>
<p>“Jack!” Gwen calls, he stops turns his head, his hand on the door handle “he’ll be okay,”</p>
<p>Jack manages a weak smile, and opens the door, moving quickly upstairs.</p>
<p>Sleep doesn’t come as easy like it had earlier.</p>
<p>Once he’s changed into softer, comfier and less dirty clothes, Jack lies awake for what feels like hours, at some point he hears the front door shut, announcing John’s departure to his ship. Gwen and Rhys head upstairs not too long after John retires to bed. He hears them talking in hushed tones, there’s movement between the main bathroom and the master bedroom bedroom, soft footsteps eventually cease and silence falls across the cottage. </p>
<p>Jack rolls over, pulling the duvet up to his neck and wills his body to sleep. His body wrung out with emotion and adrenaline finally succumbs, and he falls into unconsciousness. </p>
<p>
  <em> “Oi, trouble,” </em>
</p>
<p><em> Jack spins on the spot in Ianto’s kitchen, hands behind his back - </em> caught red handed <em> . He feels himself blush, a rare instance, but he’s been noticing that Ianto brings out the rarities in him of late. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “What’s that you’re holding?” Ianto enquires with a smirk, trying to look over Jack’s shoulder. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack plays dumb, brings one hand out, then swaps for the other “Nothing?” he tries. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> That earns him an eye roll “Jack,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay, okay,” Jack brings the hidden item from behind his back. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It’s a small bouquet of flowers “You said no one had ever got you flowers, so I thought - -,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto takes them and Jack sees a blush raise on his cheeks “Thank you,” he looks around the kitchen “although I’ve got no bloody clue what to put them in, I’m not one to keep a spare vase around the house,”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Fill up the sink, put them in there for now. We’ll pick one up from Sainsbury’s, I want you to have one - beautiful men deserve beautiful flowers,” Jack answers smoothly, the blush on Ianto’s cheeks deepens and he turns to the sink in retaliance, filling it with cold water.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack looks fondly at his silhouette framed by the kitchen window, the gentle hum of traffic below. </em>
</p>
<p>Jack jerks awake suddenly. His body immediately kicks into fight or flight. He looks down the far end of the bed, there’s a shadowy outline, he reaches for his gun on the bedside table but his hand finds nothing, it’s been taken. He reaches for the lamp instead, clicking it on.</p>
<p>The room fills with soft, warm light. But the eyes that meet his are neither soft or warm. </p>
<p>The figure of Ianto Jones stands at the foot of his bed, his mask pulled down, dressed in the same black ensemble as he had worn in the graveyard. Jack notices the bedroom window is ajar and the curtains pulled back.</p>
<p>“Ianto,” Jack breathes, slowly moving himself to sitting against the headboard, a steely gaze watches him.</p>
<p>The figure shifts uncomfortably “How do I know you?” he finally says.</p>
<p>“I’m Jack, you worked with me. For Torchwood,”</p>
<p>“Torchwood?” the man says, moving the word around his mouth “why do you keep saying that name?”</p>
<p>Jack looks puzzled “Ianto?” </p>
<p>“Is that my name?” </p>
<p>“It was. But now I’m not sure if you’re <em> you </em>, anymore,” Jack remarks carefully “what do you remember?”</p>
<p>Ianto looks at Jack suspiciously but he doesn’t move to leave, there’s clearly some inner turmoil. <em> Something </em> is causing him to act like this. Jack has no idea if this is <em> his </em>Ianto. Not anymore.</p>
<p>“I woke up surrounded by lights. I was taken to a facility, a hospital. They told me things. Told me I had a purpose,” </p>
<p>Jack pulls the duvet back and Ianto pulls out Jack’s gun from seemingly nowhere.</p>
<p>“No, stay where you are,” he says, cocking the gun.</p>
<p>Jack stops.</p>
<p>“Who’s ‘they’?”</p>
<p>“The same ones who told me about you. They sent me to kill you and take you back to them. But there’s something...I can’t put my finger on it...I don’t understand - -,” Ianto looks pained for a second, his gaze drifts, and his hand clutching the gun falls a little.</p>
<p>“It’s your memories, I think,” Jack explains “there’s something in you which is fighting what they’ve told you. Whoever ‘<em> they </em>’ are,”</p>
<p>“They said you were dangerous,”</p>
<p>Jack shakes his head “Ianto. Believe me when I say I’m not. Not anymore,”</p>
<p>Hesitancy flickers across Ianto’s eyes but he lowers the gun a little more, uncertain.</p>
<p>Jack shakes his head “<em> How </em>? How did they do this?” he goes to move and Ianto brings the gun up again.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Ianto implores “don’t move. I <em> don’t </em> know you. For all I know, you might be as dangerous as they say - -,”</p>
<p>“But something, deep down, is telling you they’re lying,” Jack pushes, leaning forwards “isn’t it? Some instinct? <em> Ianto </em>?”</p>
<p>Ianto shakes his head, and presses a palm to his temple “Stop it,”</p>
<p>“Ianto, <em> please </em>. You’re not their puppet. Listen to me - -,” Jack tries to assure him, but Ianto holds the gun up more firmly.</p>
<p>“I was given seventy-two hours to take you back to them,” he says, his voice all but vacant of emotion.</p>
<p>Jack opens his mouth - -</p>
<p> But Ianto fires Jack’s Webley, and the bullet tears mercilessly through Jack’s rib cage. </p>
<p>Death welcomes Jack like an old friend.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See you tomorrow!</p>
<p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack's bringing danger directly to Gwen's door, again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello, I can't quite believe it's a week already and this story has had so much attention. Thank you so much, honestly. I couldn't have asked for anything more. And don't worry, the action's going to ramp back up again. </p><p>[I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, it's a bit of filler - but bear with me!]</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he wakes, life pounding him square in the chest, Gwen and Rhys are standing over him looking tired. His t-shirt is stained with blood from the gunshot to, Jack grimaces and peels the soaked material from his skin.</p><p>He catches his breath, and lets his head fall back onto the bed “Ianto --,” he gasps out.</p><p>The pair above look at each other nervously and then back down at Jack.</p><p>“It’s him, I’m certain of it,” Jack looks over to the window, it’s closed and his gun is sitting innocently on the bedside table.</p><p>“I’ll stick the kettle on,” Rhys says quietly, Gwen nods gratefully “I’ll see you downstairs,”</p><p>He leaves the room and Gwen looks down at Jack, he sighs and sits up, extending his legs over the side of the bed.</p><p>“Someone’s done this to get to me,” Jack whispers “they’ve wiped his memories and sent him to hunt me down,”</p><p>They walk in silence down to the kitchen, three steaming mugs are waiting on the table. Rhys looks up as they sit down, there’s dark circles under his eyes. </p><p>Jack takes a mug and cradles it in his hands “He broke in. Whoever have brought him back, they want <em> me </em> for some reason,”</p><p>“Why?” Gwen asks, Jack shrugs.</p><p>“I don’t know. What I <em> do know </em> is that I can’t put you in danger. Not when you’ve got a life here, with each other - and Anwen.” Jack says resolutely “I need to know what we’re fighting. I need to go with him, it’s the only way. I can’t bring danger to your door. Not anymore,”</p><p>Gwen and Rhys don’t counter an argument (although Rhys looks slightly relieved).</p><p>“But they could do anything to you, Jack,” Gwen replies quietly “you have no idea what you’re walking into,”</p><p>“If it keeps you safe, it’s worth it,”</p><p>“I’m not arguing with him, they already know where we live so we need to move this as far away from here as possible,” Rhys interjects, looking between Gwen and Jack.</p><p>Jack finishes his tea and stands “I need to let him come to me, but not here. I’ll go back to the graveyard,”</p><p>He pushes his chair in wordlessly, and exits the kitchen, moving through the house until he reaches the front door. He unlatches the lock and takes a breath.</p><p>“Jack, wait!” Gwen calls, hurried footsteps behind him.</p><p>He looks over his shoulder as Gwen comes into the hallway “Jack, wait. You can’t go into this blind. We can still help you,”</p><p>Rhys appears behind her, Gwen’s calm facade slowly dissolving “If he’s back, if someone is behind all this, you need as much help as you can get,”</p><p>Jack considers it and then nods “I’ll talk to John. The last thing I want is you getting hurt because of me,” he lifts a hand and gently cups her face, Rhys tenses behind her.</p><p>“I only just got you back,” Gwen says, her voice choking a little.</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Jack says, giving her a reassuring smile.</p><p>And with that he slips out the front door, heading to John’s ship.</p><p>It’s only after a few seconds that Jack notices the sky above him, being so far out from the city means that light pollution doesn’t touch the night sky. He pauses for a second and lets his eyes adjust, pin-pricks of light coming into his vision, beautiful clusters of stars, dimmer smatterings of light amongst the twinkling, burning gasses. Venus is shining brighter than the rest of them, pale orange in the darkness.</p><p>“Have you been to all of them?” he whispers to himself.</p><p>
  <em> “No, not all of them,” Jack says, “most of the fun ones aren’t even in this galaxy. Though, there is one planet, tiny place, called Hades, in the Whirlpool Galaxy. Every time I looked up at the night sky there, I can pretty much guarantee I’d visited every single star or planet. Are you warm enough?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto hums, pulling his sleeping back further up around his shoulders. Jack smiles as he watches the other man wriggle into comfort. The SUV stands twenty foot away, the pair of them are lying on an old military blanket in a random field to the west of Cardiff, Jack’s wrapped up in his coat, the cold nipping at his fingers and nose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Feels a bit stupid, this,” Ianto says, wrinkling his nose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Nonsense!” Jack says playfully “choose another one,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto squints and pulls his arm out from the warm, pointing up “What about that one?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Which?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That one! The one next to the grey fuzzy thing; the one you said was the Beehive Cluster.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack takes a moment and then sees it “Oh! Atlas-54! Fantastic cocktails! God, I’d love to take you there someday.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto snorts, laughing as the stars above shimmered “You know, none of us know whether or not to believe you when you say stuff like that,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack chuckles “Well, when you get to my age, you stop making stuff up,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto doesn’t reply, and when Jack looks over he notices that the younger man looks a little sad. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s not a bad thing,” Jack affirms “just a fact of life,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re full of it,” Ianto says quietly “life,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Some might argue too much,” Jack says wryly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” Ianto looks away “I think you were meant to be like this. You’re so boisterous, and energetic. I think whatever happened to you was planned. You’re not containable, Jack - -,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “- - definitely been told that before - -,” </em>
</p><p><em> “And I don’t think you were ever </em> <b> <em>meant</em> </b> <em> to be,” </em></p><p>
  <em> Jack stares at him, but Ianto refuses to look back, eyes searching the sky above. The older man huffs an impressed laugh. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re incredible, Ianto, you know that right?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Now Ianto turns his head to meet his gaze “Not me. Ordinary, I am,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack shakes his head and then props himself up with one arm so he’s looking over Ianto “No, really, the way you think. You’re ahead of your time,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto smiles awkwardly and searches the night sky for a subject change “What about that one? The one next to Venus,"</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ianto,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto sighs, a little defeated “Thank you,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack lies back on the blanket. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Which one?” </em>
</p><p>Before he knows it, he’s back at the gate leading to the field he and John had landed in. He flips open his manipulator and presses a few buttons, slowly but surely the outline of a pod comes into view, he scales the gate and approaches, knocking firmly on the hull.</p><p>“Urgh - don’t you know what time it is?” comes an irritated voice.</p><p>Jack scoffs and the door slides open, revealing John topless (what else had he expected) with only his trousers on.</p><p>“Come for a little midnight fun?” John teases.</p><p>“You wish,” Jack says, not waiting for an invitation, just moving into the ship.</p><p>“Well, get on with it then, I haven’t got all night,” John reaches for his (forever grubby) t-shirt and roughly pulls it over his head, he sits down on the bed.</p><p>“I need you to look after Gwen and Rhys,”</p><p>“I’m <em> not </em> a babysitter,” John says disdainfully “why? What are you planning?”</p><p>“I’m going with Ianto,”</p><p>“Are you mad!?”</p><p>“It’s the only way to know <em> how </em> this has happened!”</p><p>“Jack, if you go with him, <em> who knows </em> what they’ll do to you. You don’t even know who ‘they’ are, do you?”</p><p>Jack sets his jaw, and doesn’t answer.</p><p>“Typical. You never could resist playing the hero,” John says, looking at Jack incredulously.</p><p>“I wouldn’t ask you unless there was a real danger,” Jack looks at him properly “I know we haven’t been on the best terms lately, but once this is all over I’ll never ask you for anything again,”</p><p>“That’s a big promise,” John replies, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>“I don’t know what I’m dealing with here, so I need to know the people around me are safe,” Jack reiterates “please,”</p><p>John looks shocked “Never thought you’d be one to beg, unless it was for the obvious…,” he trails off, smirking, but it falls from his face when he looks at the seriousness in Jack’s expression “fine, I’ll keep what’s left of your little team alive whilst you swish your coat around and go after your boyfriend,”</p><p>Jack lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding “Thank you,”</p><p>John waves a hand “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t...what can I say in this kind of situation? Don’t die...permanently? Don’t get yourself <em> too </em> caught?”</p><p>Jack chuckles “Believe me, a lot of sayings lose their meaning when you can’t die,”</p><p>John looks sad for the briefest of seconds “Stay safe,”</p><p>Jack nods “Yeah,” and with that he turns and heads back to the cottage.</p><p>A minute into walking back he hears something behind him, he turns on the spot, eyes adjusting to the dark. </p><p>Nothing. </p><p>He turns back, on guard, and starts walking again. </p><p>From behind, a rough pair of hands take hold of him, the torch drops to the floor and a white handkerchief comes into his line of vision, pressing over his mouth and nose. He chokes and kicks, inhaling a familiar scent, his eyes begin to get heavy and his mouth slackens, Jack’s thoughts trip and stumble and before he knows it he’s falling into the darkness. </p><p>In the distance he’s aware of a sickening crack and the white hot heat of pain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Your comments are making my day! </p><p>See you tomorrow!</p><p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gwen's on a mission to recruit an old friend.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good morning, good morning, good morning! Apologies for the tardiness, my flatmate and I bought wine last night and one thing lead to another (I slept through my alarm). Another chapter to lay some more context, but fear not, questions will be answered soon!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloroform is one of the worst ways to wake up, Jack sluggishly thinks as he regains his senses. One by one his brain pieces together what’s happened, he’s lying on a slightly damp floor which smells of dirt and piss. It’s not grass, Jack manages, it’s concrete or compacted soil. His eyes flick open to low light, he’s lying on his front and vaguely Jack knows he needs to wake up <em> quicker </em>.</p>
<p>Heaving himself onto his forearms, Jack lifts his overly-heavy head to scout where he is. It’s a cell not too dissimilar to the one’s in the destroyed Hub. Except they look more like the Victorian cells, thick metal bars from ceiling to floor. </p>
<p>Crawling over to the wall, Jack props himself up, panting with effort.</p>
<p>“They told me you wouldn’t stay out for long,”</p>
<p>Jack groans “Can’t...I just...have <em> two minutes </em> peace?”</p>
<p>That gets him an amused snort.</p>
<p>“I haven’t got much time, so wake up,”</p>
<p>Jack lets out a taunting laugh and groans as his head throbs “You wear the face of...a <em> dead man </em> , and you expect <em> me </em>...to listen to you?”</p>
<p>Ianto takes a step from the darkness in the corner, towards Jack’s cell “I want to know who I was before all this,”</p>
<p>“How about...an answer for an answer?” Jack proposes, shifting until he’s leaning against the metal bars, looking up into familiar yet unfamiliar eyes.</p>
<p>“I’ll warn you, I might not have all the answers you’re looking for,” Ianto says guardedly.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe that, because you always had answer for everything,”</p>
<p>Ianto chews that over “I sound like a sarcastic bastard,” he doesn’t sound surprised at the notion.</p>
<p>Jack chuckles and then grunts in pain as his thigh twinges. </p>
<p><em> Broken then </em>, Jack thinks aimlessly “The best man I ever knew,” he breathes out amidst the pain.</p>
<p>The other man doesn’t know what to make of that statement “I’ve been told you’ve killed a lot of people,”</p>
<p>Jack nods shakily “Yes. You included,”</p>
<p>Ianto looks a little taken aback by Jack’s honesty, he takes another step forward and raises a hand to the bars.</p>
<p>“You really can’t remember anything?” Jack asks, searching his face for any kind of recognition.</p>
<p>Ianto shakes his head “Nothing beyond two weeks ago,” his face contorts into pained confusion “why do I trust you? I don’t understand,”</p>
<p>“Because you know me. Better than anyone,” Jack winces and uses his hands on the bars to pull himself to standing, so they’re eye to eye. Jack’s eye water in pain.</p>
<p>“I’ve read your reports: the leader of Torchwood Three, a pathological liar, a narcissist, a <em> mass killer </em>, a thief - -,” Ianto says, steely eyed.</p>
<p>“- - and yet, you’ve just admitted to trusting me for no reason except <em> instinct </em>,” Jack says “Ianto, please,” he moves to cover Ianto’s hand with his own.</p>
<p>Ianto pushes away from the cell “Manipulation,” he spits, he turns to leave.</p>
<p>“No!” Jack cries, his arm outstretched “please, just answer one more question,”</p>
<p>Ianto stops, but doesn’t answer.</p>
<p>“Who’s behind this? Who brought you back?” </p>
<p>Ianto’s shoulders flex, he looks like he might turn around.</p>
<p>“Ianto, <em> please </em>,”</p>
<p>But instead of saying anything, the younger man disappears into a corridor and out of sight.</p>
<p>“Ianto!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>PC Andy Davidson could happily say that the last six months of his life had been the most normal and peaceful he could hope for. After the fallout of the kids all talking in unison, there’d been some major reshuffling which had led to more responsibilities, but within two months things had smoothed back out again - life reverted to a bundle of paperwork and answering phones. </p>
<p>Currently, Andy stands in his kitchen dressed in his finest nightwear (his Danger Mouse pyjama bottoms that end just above his ankles, and an old ratty Glastonbury t-shirt). It’s his first Saturday off in <em> six weeks </em>.</p>
<p>Pouring a healthy portion of Cheerios into a bowl and dousing with milk, he stalks into the living room and flops onto the sofa, a mug of coffee already prepared waiting in front of him on the table in front of the TV. The day is his oyster. He might even pluck up the courage to text Melanie in HR for a drink later. He’s free as a bird.</p>
<p>He loads the spoon up with Cheerio goodness and brings it to his mouth.</p>
<p>When the front door bell rings.</p>
<p>“Bloody typical,” he says, dropping the spoon into the bowl and setting it down on the table “I don’t order anything from Amazon for months, and on my <em> one Saturday </em> off I get a bloody parcel.” he mutters “No, don’t worry about me mate, I just pay my taxes so you can beckon me to my own front door,” he calls to the shadow on the other side of the door “I’ve got <em> nothing </em> better to do with my time than autograph your bloody iPad,”</p>
<p>He turns the lock and the door handle at the same time and yanks it open.</p>
<p>It’s not the postman.</p>
<p>“Bloody hell-fire. You finally done ignoring me?” he bristles.</p>
<p>Gwen looks guiltily at him “Can I come in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re telling me that the bloke who died last year has been brought back from the dead to...what? Kidnap Jack? Kill him? Take over the world?” Andy says disparagingly “you don’t reckon they’ll bring back more people, do you? I don’t want to look my Auntie Brenda in the eye after I pissed away the inheritance on that night out in Newport,”</p>
<p>Gwen scowls “Andy, focus. Jack’s been taken by these people and I need to know if you’ve had any strange stuff going on, weird reports, perhaps in the last two weeks?”</p>
<p>“I see how it is, you ignore my calls, but the second something spooky happens, you’re over here like a rash,”</p>
<p>Gwen sighs guiltily “I’m sorry. Really. Rhys and I had no idea after everything, whether or not we’d be safe to be around. It’s not just you, it’s my family, too. I’ve barely seen anyone,”</p>
<p>Andy watches her closely “How is Rhys? And Anwen?”</p>
<p>She smiles “Fine, they’re both fine. But they’ll be in danger unless you help me, I need to get to the bottom of this. Please, Andy, can you think of <em> anything </em>?”</p>
<p>“And you think somehow something we’ve picked up in the last year might be connected to Jack’s undead boyfriend?”</p>
<p>“Ianto,” Gwen says tightly.</p>
<p>Andy rolls his eyes, standing up and snatching his phone off the table “Fine. Gimme ten minutes,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Jack pops open the lock to Ianto’s flat and pushes the door open, pocketing his keys, he treads carefully through the hallway into the living room. It’s late, or early depending on a person’s preference. One floor lamp is on, casting long shadows across the small room.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto sits on the sofa with his back to Jack, there’s a half-empty bottle of whisky on the coffee table, a tumbler fogged with fingerprints. The younger man is dressed, from what Jack can see, in the same white shirt he’d been wearing ten hours ago, his waistcoat unbuttoned and rumpled. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I keep thinking about the night Lisa died,” he says, so quietly Jack barely even hears it. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack stops his approach “Okay,” he replies uneasily. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “When you held that gun to my head,” Ianto pauses thoughtfully “I wonder whether you’d have pulled the trigger, perhaps if Gwen wasn’t there. Or if you hadn’t had Owen over your shoulder,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack feels his chest tighten “I thought we agreed that what’s done is done,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto shrugs “I just find it interesting. Another life, a parallel universe. Maybe I’d have been the fourth body. And it would have been the three of you scrubbing up the mess,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack feels sick to his stomach “When did you start feeling like this again?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “A few days ago. You know, sometimes I wish you hadn’t been a coward. Sometimes I wish…,” Ianto trails off numbly. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jack’s temper flares a little “No - you don’t,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “How do you know?” Ianto accuses, still turned away, “You have no idea....” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I think I can take a guess, you did talk to me - a bit,” Jack moves towards him and puts his hands on either side of Ianto’s shoulders, the other man lets his head sag forwards. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “But not all of it,” Ianto mumbles. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Ianto,” Jack says, rubbing circles into Ianto’s shoulders “look at me,” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “The work we do. It eats you from the inside. I thought I could deal with it, trying to balance the darkness with these small shafts of sunlight, of goodness- but it’s too vast, the expanse is too big. It’s over-powering,” he shudders, Jack feels it beneath his hands. Ianto draws his head back and looks up at Jack. His face is wet with tears, eyes look sore, his normal front is long gone, he looks distraught. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “How do you carry on each day?” he whispers. </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Because I have to. </em> <b> <em>We</em> </b> <em> have to,” One of Jack’s hands moving to cup Ianto’s face. </em></p>
<p>Jack summises that he must have passed out from pain because when he opens his eyes he’s back on the floor, his leg still throbbing. Something about large breaks in bone seems to take more time to heal than flesh wounds, just another wonderful bullet point for his list of immortality.</p>
<p>He hisses as he hauls himself up onto a concrete block which Jack assumes is for sitting on, extending his leg he whimpers as he feels the bone slowly fusing back together. In the maylay of painful and exhaustion, he doesn’t hear the arrival of someone new.</p>
<p>“Hello again, Captain,”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'll be honest, I was really worried about my characterisation of Andy, he's such a funny character but it's such a particular, dry humour that it's really hit and miss. </p>
<p>Let me know what your thoughts are! I love opening my emails and seeing your comments sitting in my inbox! Keep sharing this story if you're enjoying it, I know there's still a fandom in the depths of tumblr. If you haven't kudos-ed, please do!</p>
<p>See you tomorrow!</p>
<p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack finds out who 'they' are, and Gwen drags Andy around Cardiff.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A longer chapter and more answers! Let me know what you think!</p><p>Have a lovely day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Andy snaps his phone shut and walks into his living room “Right, I’ve used my <em> fantastic </em> people skills to try to find anything sci-fi,”</p><p>Gwen nods, putting her coffee down “And?”</p><p>“As it turns out, there’s been a spike in the reports of homeless people being abducted in the last month. Not out of the realms of possibility, <em> however </em>, it was either that or pet rabbits disappearing from people’s gardens near Garth Hill,” Andy takes a mouthful of his Cheerios and grimaces when he bites down and finds they’ve gone soft. </p><p>He puts the bowl down, looking a tad upset.</p><p>“Probably just Weevils,” Gwen says dismissively, “do they have any leads on the homeless abduction?”</p><p>“Not currently, the community - <em> bizarrely enough </em>, aren’t too fond of the police,” Andy snarks and Gwen’s lips draw into a thin line.</p><p>“Right, then we need to get a way in - talk to someone who’ll trust us,” Gwen gets up “come on, get dressed, I need your help,”</p><p>Andy grits his teeth but collects their dirty crockery and dumps it in the kitchen before heading up to his bedroom.</p><p>“Quick as you can!” Gwen shouts, Andy mutters a litany of curses in return, and chastises himself for ever wanting to be a part of Torchwood.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Rhys sits opposite John in his own front room feeling a little intimidated (not that he’d ever admit to it).</p><p>“Want me to stick the TV on, mate?” he offers, picking up the remote.</p><p>John rolls his eyes and shrugs, Rhys stabs the ‘on’ button and prays for anything to take the silence away.</p><p><em> Homes Under the Hammer </em>. That’ll do.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jack scoffs “Dr Larson?”</p><p>“Been a little while, eh, Jack?” she smiles broadly, keeping a safe distance from the cell. She doesn’t look a day older than the last time he’d seen her, her brown hair cropped just above shoulder length, lab coat pristine to match the modern cut shirt and trousers.</p><p>“But…I don’t understand. After everything with Godalming? The virus, <em> you </em> helped us stop it,” Jack feels fury building deep inside him.</p><p>“I did. And then <em> you lot </em> left, left <em> us </em> to clean up what you thought wasn’t worth your time, and then things went back to normal.” she says dryly “I mean, I was out of a job... until I was approached by a very interesting military organisation,”</p><p>Jack feels a penny drop in his head “UNIT,”</p><p>“Got it in one,” she praises, pointing at him with a wide smile “you see, I thought I’d seen it all at Heights, but then there was <em> more </em>, there was endless possibilities and I just...couldn’t say no,”</p><p>“What you’re doing, whatever you want me for, I’m going to make your life <em> hell </em>,”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Which is why we brought back Jones. We heard he’d been killed by the 456 virus and it felt like too good an opportunity to waste. After all, he had such an interesting reaction to the Good Thinking pathogen that it felt more like fate,” she stops, danger sparking in her eyes, she laughs “how stupid of me to do that whole ‘spilling the plan’ thing, I should know better. What can I say, Jack? You’re just a <em> charmer </em>,”</p><p>Jack sneers “And here I was thinking you were better than this,”</p><p>“Better than what? The secret to resurrection? The possibility of eternal life? Jack, we found something <em> extraordinary </em> after the 456 incident, it’s the opposite to Good Thinking. I don’t think you can compare,” she looks at her watch “goodness, is that the time? I’d best be off,”</p><p>“Before you go, just answer me something,”</p><p>Dr Larson tilts her head, amused “Go on,”</p><p>“Did you choose to wipe his memories, or did he come back without them?”</p><p>She smiles even wider “Oh, he remembered everything, poor boy. We just made him a blank slate,” she turns, still smiling, and disappears into the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Right, we’ve got until two, then I’ve got to go and pick Anwen up from my Mam’s,” Gwen says opening the car door and slipping into the driver’s seat. Andy gets into the passengers side, slamming the door with perhaps a little too much frustration.</p><p>“I can’t believe I’m using my sodding day off for this,” he grumbles, pulling his seatbelt on.</p><p>“Oh, Andy, it’ll be like the old times,” Gwen teases, but when she looks over at him he doesn’t look convinced and the smile fades from her face.</p><p>“You’re many things, Gwen, but you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met,” Andy says flatly “maybe if we get going now, I can get back in time to go for a pint,”</p><p>Gwen arches an eyebrow “A date?”</p><p>Andy scowls “No,” he rethinks “not yet anyway,”</p><p>They pull away from the curb and head down the street.</p><p>“So what’s this master plan, then?” </p><p>Gwen grins “I’ve still got a few connections, let’s see whether I can yank some strings,”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They pull up outside the grottiest block of flats Andy thinks he’s ever seen, and he feels like he has some experience with hovels considering his job. Gwen parks up and casts perhaps a worried glance at leaving the car.</p><p>“I’ll wait here, shall I?” Andy offers as he gets out, patting the car roof and nodding his head towards the flats.</p><p>“Please, the last thing we need right now is an insurance claim,” she says walking into an alleyway.</p><p>“If you don’t come out in ten minutes, I’ll give <em> my mates </em> a call,” Andy shouts, trying to sound conspicuous.</p><p>Quiet falls around him, a young boy scowls at him from a high up window and there’s a distant sound of drum and bass - Andy feels a little naked without his police uniform.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jack isn’t sure how much time passes before he gets another visitor. Upon his arrival they seem to have taken anything mechanical, his manipulator is gone, as is his watch, his coat has nothing left in the pockets. Jack tips his head back against the wall, the pain now only humming in his leg.</p><p>There’s the scuff of shoes and Jack looks dead ahead.</p><p>“Just can’t keep away, can you?” he says scoffing coldly.</p><p>Ianto shifts, his jaw twitches “I’ve been sent to collect you,” he pulls out a zip tie and Jack raises his eyebrows.</p><p>“You sure you know how to tie a man up?” he deadpans, darkly.</p><p>“Depends,” Ianto retorts “whether or not the man in question is willingly,”</p><p>Jack laughs low and humourlessly “I’m not going to fight you. I could never fight you on anything,”</p><p>Ianto glowers sternly “Good - face the wall,”</p><p>Jack feels a warmth in his stomach at the words, muscle memory is a beautiful thing (if a little poor at timing). </p><p>He does as he’s told and the cell door opens, Jack holds his hands out behind him and feels warm skin touching his before sharp plastic encompasses his wrists. He remembers those diligent hands, it’s only when <em> this </em> Ianto is so close that he feels an ache in his chest that he wishes he could satisfy, but this Ianto doesn’t know him, or trust him for that matter. </p><p>Jack sighs and Ianto tugs him out of the cell and up the corridor he’d seen Dr Larson disappear down.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Gwen reappears thirty seconds before Andy can come up with a plan, a skinny lad trailing behind her in a mismatched tracksuit.</p><p>“Andy, Bernie. Bernie, Andy,” she says loosely opening the back door for the Bernie kid, who nods at Andy, before slotting into the back seat.</p><p>Andy throws Gwen an incredulous look. She winks before getting behind the wheel. Andy sighs. </p><p>
  <em> Bloody Torchwood. </em>
</p><p>“C’mon Andy, let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving!” she calls, almost <em> too </em> happily.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ianto leads Jack up the corridor and into a laboratory. He scouts the room for exits subtly before he’s being pressed down onto a medical bed (complete with straps) by Ianto. The room is devoid of any proper furnishings, mainly high tables littered with scientific instruments and experiment - empty test tube racks, a vortex mixer moving conical flasks in concentric circles - the liquid inside viscous and thick, Jack spies something bubbling over a bunsen burner. It all feels a little staged.</p><p>Dr Larson smiles tauntingly from her perch on an empty lab bench, she kicks her legs almost childishly as Ianto straps down Jack’s legs before breaking the cable tie and strapping down his arms, too. He’s so close that Jack can smell his skin - unmistakable.</p><p>“Feeling nostalgic, Captain?” she quips and Jack rolls his eyes, steadying himself.</p><p><em> Slowly, slowly, </em> he thinks, gritting his teeth.</p><p>“Oh, quite a nerve to hit,” Dr Larson says, hopping off the desk “good work, Jones,” she pats his arm affectionately. Ianto doesn’t really respond to the touch, just keeps his eyes trained on Jack.</p><p>“You can go,” she tells him, he pauses for a second and Dr Larson watches as something inside him challenges the order before he turns and leaves.</p><p>“Fascinating,” she says, as the door clicks shut “even with the intense programming we gave him, <em> something </em> is leading him to question his orders. That’s quite a magnetism you have,” she wheels a small chair over to Jack and sits down.</p><p>Jack looks blankly at the ceiling, he’s good at disappearing at times like these.</p><p>“Oh, don’t be boring,” Dr Larson snaps and Jack remembers saying the same thing to her “I want to tell you a story,”</p><p>Jack closes his eyes.</p><p>Dr Larson continues anyway “Just under a year ago we found that during the attack by the 456 an asteroid had crash-landed on the Isle of Portland. A team was sent out to recover it and we thought that would be it, done and dusted, nice and neat,” she pauses “but what they uncovered was far more than some poxy asteroid debris,”</p><p>Jack slowly opens his eyes.</p><p>“Hmmm, that got your attention, didn’t it?” she stands up and walks over to a bench, picking up a small glass test tube, inside it is something Jack can’t quite discern. She brings it closer and holds it over him.</p><p>“This is just a tiny fragment of it,” she continues “but even this is still more powerful than <em> anything </em> I’ve ever seen in my work,”</p><p>“What does it do?” Jack asks quietly, Dr Larson smiles smugly at succeeding to pique his interest.</p><p>“It’s an intensifier,” she says simply “you add this to <em> anything </em> and the properties increase exponentially.” she looks like she’s about to burst from excitement “I took a lot of blood from you when we first met,”</p><p>Jack’s face morphs into suspicion “My blood doesn’t contain regenerative properties,”</p><p>“That’s what I thought too, Jack, but when we used a fragment smaller than this, your blood became a powerful antibiotic, a cure for things we couldn’t even imagine.” she frowns “the first subjects we used had HIV, hep-c, sepsis, even syphilis, and each one was completely cured before other symptoms became apparent. But we tweaked it, changed the dosage, made it... safer. We used the last of it poor Ianto, and for some reason he reacted better than any of our test subjects, within fifteen minutes of having this in his veins he took his first breath in <em> seven months </em>. We thought perhaps he might have suffered brain damage, he spent the first three hours screaming. But he pulled through. We wiped him clean with the same technology Heights used on Godalming. It all worked out quite nicely.”</p><p>“You used an unknown drug on a dead man on the <em> possibility </em> it might bring him back?” Jack growls, pulling at his restraints.</p><p>Dr Larson scoffs “Do you want to see?”</p><p>She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small tablet, she taps the screen a few times and turns it to face Jack.</p><p>“Watch.” she whispers, like it’s a secret “it’s incredible,”</p><p>Jack’s eyes fall to the screen, a body bag lies on a slab. He doesn’t need three guesses to figure out what’s inside. The on-screen Dr Larson approaches, her face covered with a mask, wearing paper overalls and latex gloves. She unzips the bag and Jack wishes he had the strength to avert his eyes. It’s disgusting, and wrong, grey flesh, all concave sink-holes and black patches. Clothes rotting, it makes bile rise in Jack’s throat.</p><p>He hates himself but he keeps watching, the video continues and Dr Larson picks up a medical gun and slots a viscose looking liquid contained within a tube into the top. She presses it to what’s left of the dead body's neck and dispenses the dose. She moves out of frame for a few seconds and comes back holding a U-shaped metallic device, leaning over the corpse she fiddles with it for a few seconds, rearranging tattered suit cloth and then steps back.</p><p>Nothing happens.</p><p>In the expanse of nothingness, Dr Larson fully opens the body bag and Jack sees more than he ever wanted to, but he can’t look away.</p><p>“This bit is perhaps a little boring,” Dr Larson says, taking the tablet and fast-forwarding and then placing it back in front of Jack “watch this,”</p><p>Time has passed, perhaps ten minutes judging by the video bar at the bottom. Jack would swear that the pallid skin wasn’t as grey as it had been, and there’s fewer sunken holes in Ianto’s skin. Limbs begin to twitch.</p><p>“It’s amazing,” she murmurs, eyes enraptured.</p><p>“It’s horrifying,” Jack says, disbelievingly.</p><p>The body on the slab begins to tremble.</p><p>“It’s the body beginning to wake up,” Dr Larson breathes, ignoring Jack “neural pathways connecting, the brain switches on, muscles wake up, organs begin to <em> live - </em>again,"</p><p>All of a sudden there’s a horrific scream and Jack cringes, feeling tears coming to his eyes. Ianto’s first breath back into the world is cruel and agonising. His body convulses and soldiers run in, pinning him down - but the screaming carries on. Jack squeezes his eyes shut.</p><p>“Stop. Please.” he pleads, Dr Larson looks up at him to see his distress.</p><p>“Imagine how many lives we can save with this,” she says, enraptured. The screaming stops and Jack opens his eyes in time to see Dr Larson tucking the tablet back into her lab coat.</p><p>“It’s not right,” Jack grits out “I know it’s not fair, but when you get rid of illness and death, what’s left? What’s left for anyone to live for?”</p><p>Dr Larson shakes her head “You have no idea what you’re talking about,”</p><p>She turns and collects a medical bag from a table, opening it up and unravelling a long tube.</p><p>“I’m doing this.” she says strongly, tying a rubber band around Jack’s arm and finding a vein “I’m going to save so many lives,”</p><p>Jack looks at her, properly “Listen to me. This will cause <em> more </em> death,”</p><p>“No. It’ll bring <em> life </em>,”</p><p>She pushes in a needle and Jack grunts, watching helplessly as his blood funnels into an empty IV bag.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kudos and comments are always appreciated! </p><p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gwen's forming a plan - Andy's not so pleased.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short one today! I hope you're all enjoying it - we're halfway through! Thanks for sticking with the story, I really appreciate it. There's a little fluffy flashback in this one, I hope it's not too silly.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Bernie, it’s your lucky day.” Gwen calls triumphantly as they swing into the car park of a greasy spoon.</p><p>Andy rolls his eyes and pops his door open, watching cautiously as Bernie exits the car, Gwen leading, Andy behind a kid who looks more skittish than a newly adopted rescue cat.</p><p>Gwen opens the door and the three are hit with the smell of greasy fry-up. Andy’s stomach growls at the prospect of a cholesterol boosting breakfast, his Cheerios pale in comparison.</p><p>They squeeze into a corner table, a sixteen year old girl slumps over.</p><p>“Three Welsh feast’s, please.” Gwen says before Andy even has a chance to look at the menu “and three americano’s,”</p><p>The girl looks mildly entertained at Gwen’s efficiency (not to mention Andy’s dumbstruck expression) and wanders off towards the kitchen hatch, pulling her phone out of her apron en route.</p><p>“I didn’t even get a chance to look at the menu, Gwen,” Andy says disdainfully.</p><p>“Trust me, you’ll like it. Ianto told me about this place - best Laverbread in Cardiff,” Gwen says, before turning to Bernie, who looks like he could bolt any minute “been a while, hasn’t it Bernie?”</p><p>“What do you want me for this time?” he says nervously, picking at the sleeve of his jacket.</p><p>“I’ve got fifty quid, a breakfast fit for a King, and the possibility of scrubbing your record a little cleaner than it is,” Gwen says enticingly.</p><p>Andy turns to look at her, wide-eyed. She shakes her head a little.</p><p><em> Wait, </em> her eyes say, she turns back to Bernie.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“What do you need to know, like?” Bernie asks, eyes looking around the cafe.</p><p>“There’s people going missing in the city. Homeless. You seem to have a lot of connections, you <em> know </em> a lot of people,” Gwen all but flatters.</p><p>Bernie stops fidgeting for a second “Disappearances?”</p><p>“Yeah. What’ve you heard?"</p><p>“Big Jim lost three regular lads a few weeks ago, down by the docks. They text him to say they were there, but when he got there, nothing. That happened twice in a week, that did,” the front door bell rings and Bernie nearly jumps out of his skin.</p><p>“If I gave you twenty-four hours, do you think you could get some more information? Find out maybe if there’s been any more?”</p><p>“Make it a ton, and I’ll have it by tonight,”</p><p>“A hundred quid!?” Andy repeats, aghast.</p><p>Gwen chews her cheek for a second and then holds out her hand “Done,”</p><p>Bernie takes it and they briskly shake.</p><p>The waitress returns, apparently from thin air “Three Welsh feast’s,” she says flatly, all-but throwing the plates on the table “I’ll be back with your coffee,”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The Medical Bay is cold, all tiles and metal. Ianto’s propped up on the examination bed, an IV in the back of his hand, his shirt a complete write-off. Jack holds the hand free of any intrusion and presses Ianto’s knuckles to his own cheek. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He’ll be fine, Jack, just give him a bit to come around. Those are some pretty powerful pain meds.” Owen says, scribbling notes down on his clipboard before watching Jack carefully for a second, probably planning to say something sarky. He sees the emotion in Jack’s eyes and thinks better of it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I guess I’ll make my own coffee, then,” he says, prodding Ianto with the clipboard. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack tuts and Owen chuckles before tossing the clipboard on the side and bouncing up the steps, his footsteps fading into the distance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack holds Ianto’s hand up to his lips and kisses his knuckles “I’m sorry,” he whispers, quiet enough anyone passing won’t hear anything “I’m sorry that I keep putting you all in danger,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He hears Tosh tapping at her computer and sniffs “I ask too much of you all, every day, I know,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto remains still, there’s a projection of his vitals on the tiled wall, Jack’s eyes scan over them quickly - he looks fine, stable. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And I’m sorry that I’m not good with this,” he uses his other hand to gesture to the air between them “I’m just so scared of losing someone else who I...I really care for,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack looks over Ianto’s features, the softness of his hair, the set of his jaw, his unique characteristics, almond shaped eyes and his upturned nose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Where I come from, they say that everyone has a missing piece. In the past I thought I’d found it in others, and I think they were close, but not as close as you. There’s something about you, I don’t know what it is. You fit. Perfectly,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack bends his head and holds Ianto’s hand to his chest like he’s about to start praying. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you a nurse?” comes a slurred, heavily accented voice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack looks up, Ianto’s eyes are fogged over and he’s got a strangely bemused look on his face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack smiles broadly “No, I’m Jack,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Jack,” Ianto moves the word around his mouth and Jack stifles a laugh, he looks drunk “I like it,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Good.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Owen potters down the steps holding a mug full of coffee “Do I hear a familiar voice?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Who’s this?” Ianto says, he narrows his eyes, tightening his hold on Jack’s hand (almost painfully). </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “This is Owen, remember? He’s looking after you,” Jack says slowly, watching Ianto piece it together. </em>
</p><p><em> “Can </em> you <em> look after me instead?” Ianto asks. </em></p><p>
  <em> Owen blanches “Charming,” he turns to Jack “it’s just a reaction to the pain meds, take him home, keep him hydrated and fed. He should wake up tomorrow absolutely fine, if a bit sore with any luck,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto pouts “I heard that,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well that’s what you get for having favourites,” Owen retorts immediately, clipping his ear “and for being heroic by throwing yourself down three flights of stairs,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto looks up at Jack, scandalised “Do something!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack puts up his free hand in self defence “Hey, I’m not getting involved!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Owen laughs and writes down a few more notes before slipping out the IV line and sending Ianto and Jack on their way, throwing a quick “Gimme a call if he gets worse!” over his shoulder for good measure. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto catches Tosh as she passes the sofa (where he’d been temporarily firmly told to sit) whilst Jack grabs some overnight bits from his bunker. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do you think I’d be in with a chance with Jack?” he asks, his mouth tripping over the words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tosh grins “He’s your boyfriend,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No!?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tosh nods, chuckling, before Jack reappears from his office and sweeps Ianto down to the garage. </em>
</p><p>Jack doesn’t know how long he’s been lying on the medical bed, but he’s starting to lose consciousness. Dr Larson slides the needle out from Jack’s arm and he hears her high heels echo into the distance, when they return there’s another set of footsteps, heavier.</p><p>“Take him back to the cell, his body’ll replenish a supply. I’ll take more tomorrow,” she says and Jack feels the cuffs around his wrists loosen, followed by the one’s around his ankles, he slides down and is caught by a firm pair of hands. Effortlessly lifted over a shoulder, Jack feels near weightlessness as he’s taken back to his cell. He takes a long breath.</p><p>“Ianto?” he mumbles.</p><p>He gets a small hum in reply.</p><p>He feels light-headed and woozy “I missed you,”</p><p>He gets nothing for that.</p><p>After what feels like an age, and almost reminiscent of being carried to bed by a parent, Jack is laid down on the floor of his cell. A hand carefully sets his head on the floor. The cell door swings shut and locks, footsteps begin to grow distant.</p><p>“Knew you wouldn’t forget me. Just like I promised I wouldn’t forget you,” Jack slurs.</p><p>The footsteps stop.</p><p>“‘Could never forget you,” Jack mumbles to himself before slipping into unconsciousness.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Bernie scarpers as soon as they drop him back off.</p><p>Andy turns to Gwen “Can I go home now?”</p><p>“I might need you later,” Gwen says, batting her eyelashes “come with me and meet Anwen, since you never came to the Christening,”</p><p>“I was ill. And I’m not letting you drag me all the way to bloody Swansea, Gwen,” Andy says, unconvinced.</p><p>Gwen bites her lip “If I have to get Rhys to help, Anwen would have to stay with you,”</p><p>Andy changes tactics instantaneously “Let’s go to Swansea!”</p><p>Gwen beams with smug self-satisfaction “Thought so,”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Andy! What a surprise!” Mary Cooper has her arms wide open for her daughter on her doorstep, but there’s a questioning look on her face. Gwen embraces her and Andy smiles politely.</p><p>“Andy was in the area, so I said I’d give him a lift home!” Gwen says smoothly, Andy gives her a sarcastic smile.</p><p>“Oh, what brings you to Swansea?” Mary says, packing up Anwen’s baby things.</p><p>“He stayed over with a<em> friend </em> last night!” Gwen says sweetly, her subtext not unnoticed by her mother’s ear “I said I was getting Anwen and I’d pick him up and take him back to Cardiff,”</p><p>Andy waits until Mary’s back is turned before flipping his middle finger at Gwen, Gwen shrugs but she doesn’t look guilty.</p><p>“Lured to the dark side, eh, Andy?” Geraint appears from the kitchen and Andy relaxes his hand “Cardiff women just don’t have the same...class,”</p><p>Andy nods warily “Uh...yeah,”</p><p>Mary weaves between them all to the stairs “Anwen’s just having a nap, I’ll go get her,”</p><p>“Cup of tea, Andy?” Geraint asks, nonchalantly “you must be worn out,”</p><p>“No, thank you, Geraint. I was hoping Gwen would head straight off,” Andy says with a stare at Gwen.</p><p>She nods defeat behind her father’s back and Mary reappears with Anwen. Gwen passes Andy all of Anwen’s bags to put in the boot whilst she clips her into the baby seat. </p><p>Andy feels tangible fear when Geraint comes to his side as he finishes packing away the small mountain of bags. Gwen and Mary are fussing Anwen in the front seat.</p><p>“Just imagine, one faux pas with your lady friend last night and that could be you,” he nods towards Anwen and the two women, Andy shudders.</p><p>“<em>No, thank you </em>,” he repeats quickly, slamming the boot down “let’s go, Gwen,”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I’d turn the top floor into a flat, then the downstairs into two separate flats,” Rhys says, pointing at the TV.John shakes his head emphatically “No, no no no no. Turn it into one <em> big </em> house, and have endless parties. Look at that balcony!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you all have a lovely day! I've got some other Ianto/Jack fics if you need something to tide you over till tomorrow. Keep commenting, hitting that kudos button - I'm slowly managing to reply to them. Why not subscribe or bookmark if you're really enjoy it? </p><p>See you tomorrow!</p><p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A regroup, a plan and a costume change.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Morning all! Apologies for the lateness today, I slept straight through my morning alarm and when I did wake it felt like I'd been run over by a lorry. I finally have enough caffeine in my veins to be able to post this chapter.</p><p>It's a long one, finally! We're reaching the home straight, things are going to start pulling together soon. As always, let me know what you think! Thank you so much for the wonderful comments I've received so far - I appreciate every single one. </p><p>Have a lovely day, you're all fantastic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack drifts in and out of consciousness. He feels sick, maybe he vomits at one point, but if he does, he doesn’t notice.</p><p>
  <em> “Long night, sir?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You look like you need a strong cup of coffee,” </em>
</p><p>Jack smiles deliriously, edging on the cusp of death.</p><p>
  <em> “You’re one hell of mess,” </em>
</p><p>A warmth spreads across his chest at the idea of being<em> saved </em>.</p><p>
  <em> “This must have been eating away at you. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped,” </em>
</p><p>He cringes as the warmth twists and contorts into rats wriggling in his stomach.</p><p>
  <em> “Hey...it was good, yeah?” </em>
</p><p>Jack feels an angry sob shake his chest.</p><p>
  <em> “A thousand years time, you won’t remember me,” </em>
</p><p>Jack feels grief tear open like an old wound.</p><p>“You look like shit,”</p><p>Jack blinks with heavy eyes, a face swims into vision.</p><p>“Ianto,” he says, trying to steady his breathing.</p><p>The face above doesn’t smile or look reassuring.</p><p>“I’m not joking, you look dead,” Ianto says dryly.</p><p>Jack would laugh if he had the energy. He tries to relax, and closes his eyes.</p><p>“I’ve had worse,” he mumbles, putting a palm to his head. Extreme blood loss. Never fun.</p><p>“I have some questions for you,” Ianto says, sitting down a few feet away from the cell.</p><p>“I’ve got one for you first,” Jack says, pushing himself upright, vertigo sending his head spinning once more “Does Dr Larson know you’re here?”</p><p>“No,” it’s said without hesitation and without regret.</p><p>Jack props himself up against the side wall and casts his eyes at a man he once knew before his head slumps with fatigue.</p><p>“Go on, then, ask away,” he waves a hand “I’m fine, just tired,”</p><p>Ianto lets out a long breath “Something, at the back of my brain, is shouting. It’s telling me they’re lying,”</p><p>“They are,” Jack looks at him with tired eyes “I wish I could prove it to you,”</p><p>“They told me you used me. Used my knowledge and training for Torchwood,” even the way he says word doesn’t sound like Ianto “made me think that I was fighting to protect people, when all we did was kill,”</p><p>“And what do <em> you </em> think?” Jack interjects, watching him closely.</p><p>“I don’t<em> feel </em> like a bad person,”</p><p>Jack looks up at him wistfully “Never,”</p><p>“Why would they lie? An organisation like this. They’re trying to help, save lives, cure people. Dr Larson - -,”</p><p>“- - Dr Larson doesn’t know what it’s like to live without illness, without age, without end,” Jack says vehemently “she doesn’t understand that sickness is a part of being human, of being<em> alive </em>,”</p><p>“You can’t say that about everyone,” Ianto protests, looking troubled “what about sick kids? Or babies? This could <em> help </em> so many people,”</p><p>Jack shakes his head “I’m sorry, but it’s not that easy. So you prioritise this kind of antidote for the vulnerable, the frail, the weak. It’s never that simple. Better to not have it than to have someone weaponise it, mutate it, sell it to the super-rich, the highest bidder. I’m sorry, but it’s a cure that <em> shouldn’t </em> exist, Ianto,”</p><p>“You don’t have the authority to make that kind of call,” Ianto replies, getting to his feet.</p><p>“I used to. Back when people listened to me.” Jack chokes “Ianto,<em> please </em> , this is serious. This will cause wars, riots. <em> Think </em> about it,” </p><p>Ianto shakes his head “They’re right about you. You’re a monster. You <em> want </em> the world to suffer,”</p><p>He strides away, and Jack feels exhaustion wash over him. He doesn’t fight it.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I’m back!” Gwen calls, ushering Andy into the hallway.</p><p>“In ‘ere,” comes Rhys’ voice, but there appears to be a heated discussion going on in the living room. Andy opens the door and finds Rhys and a strange looking man pointing at the TV.</p><p>“Why would you buy a house for nineteen grand if you weren’t going to make a profit?” John barks at the screen.</p><p>“If you rent it, you could make a profit,” Rhys offers thoughtfully.</p><p>John scoffs “Yeah, in about three hundred years,” he notices the newcomers “oh, hello all. We’re binge-watching <em> Homes Under the Hammer </em>, wanna join?”</p><p>“No, ta, I need to feed Anwen,” Gwen jerks her head in the direction of the kitchen “Rhys, come on, you can hold her whilst I warm up dinner,”</p><p>Rhys hoists himself from the armchair and points at John.</p><p>“Behave,” he says, before disappearing into the kitchen.</p><p>John pouts but looks a little impressed, before his eyes fall on Andy.</p><p>“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m John - <em> Captain </em> John Hart,” he holds out a hand and smiles charmingly “you’re tall and cute - don’t tell me <em> you’ve </em> got an accent, too,”</p><p>Andy feels his cheeks heat up “I don’t swing that way, mate,” he says as measuredly as he can muster.</p><p>John seems unperturbed, throws him another look “Shame,” he flops back down on the sofa but doesn’t stop looking at the other man.</p><p>Andy suddenly feels very vividly what it’s like to be a piece of meat in a lion enclosure.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>John, Gwen and Andy trundle out of the house two hours later. Rhys stands in the doorway, Anwen balanced on his hip. </p><p>“Now you sure you’ll be alright?” Gwen fusses.</p><p>Rhys nods “We’ll be <em> fine </em>,” he presses a kiss to her cheek “go and save Jack, the man’s a mess without you lot,”</p><p>Andy grimaces, thinking back to a year ago “You don’t know the half of it,”</p><p>John smiles wickedly “No, <em>you</em> <em>don’t,</em>” his eyes glittering mischievously.</p><p>Gwen shakes her head and places a kiss to Anwen’s head “I’ll be back soon,”</p><p>“Better be,” Rhys says, smiling. They share one more kiss and then they head towards the car.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want to take my ship?” John asks, grinning.</p><p>“Ship?” Andy looks dumbfounded.</p><p>“I think that might ruin the element of surprise, John, not to mention Bernie might die of shock. The kid’s on edge enough as it is,”</p><p>John shrugs “Your loss,”</p><p>Andy looks back at John “You’ve got a spaceship?”</p><p>John grins and shrugs, before following Gwen to her car.</p><p>They clamber into Gwen’s Renault and drive away, distantly Gwen feels the familiarity of nervousness, anticipation and worry settle in her stomach, but she does her best to put it aside. </p><p>Now’s not the time for getting the jitters.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Bernie’s waiting for them as they pull into the estate, his hood up. He climbs into the back, next to Andy, and they drive to a multi-storey car park nearby.</p><p>Gwen turns the ignition off and turns to him “What you got?”</p><p>Bernie sniffs “Money first,”</p><p>Gwen reaches into her back pocket but John smoothly turns in his seat and pulls out a small knife and toys with it in his hand, he looks up at Bernie and catches Gwen’s hand before she has the opportunity to hand over the money. He lazily locks the doors as an afterthought.</p><p>“Tell you what, <em> kid </em>,” he says, low and dangerous, “you tell us what you’ve got, and if we think it’s useful - you’ll get your drug money,”</p><p>Bernie stiffens and looks over at Andy (who looks a little terrified too).</p><p>John smiles sweetly “Now, you were saying?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jack briefly wakes to see a tray being placed on the floor next to him. A beige pile of food is mounted on it, uninvitingly. For a brief second Jack contemplates whether the food should be hot or cold, but he’s not going to eat it so his interest slides. It smells foul and Jack’s stomach clenches, his body betraying him and retching a little. He groans, pressing his face into the coldness of the wall.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Bernie delivers <em> without </em> blood being spilt, Gwen offers to give him a lift home but he looks warily at John.</p><p>“I’ll walk,” he says, pocketing the cash and trying to open the door. It’s locked.</p><p>John gives him a smile as sharp as broken glass and clicks the door open.</p><p>“Whoops,” he drawls.</p><p>Bernie all but scrambles out of the car.</p><p>Gwen rolls her eyes “Was that <em> really </em> necessary?”</p><p>“What? You’re expecting me to play nice now I’m helping you?” he replies, eyebrows raised.</p><p>Andy sighs “Look, let's just get out of here,” </p><p>Gwen concedes and starts the car, John smugly sits back in his seat and Andy wishes he was literally <em> anywhere </em> else.</p><p>“Bernie said that the majority of the homeless who have gone missing were staying in an abandoned warehouse, near the docks. His mate - -,”</p><p>“- - Skinny Pig - -,” John adds.</p><p>“Yes, Skinny Pig, said that the soldiers collecting them were wearing red caps and beige military uniforms. That sounds like UNIT to me.” Gwen turns out of the car park and onto the main road back into the city centre “So let’s go and see if we can get ourselves kidnapped,” </p><p>“Gwen, that’s crazy!” Andy says, stunned “you have no idea <em> why </em> these people are being taken, it could be suicide!”</p><p>“If UNIT are taking people, they must be using them for something. Jack’s been kidnapped, there’s got to be a connection,” Gwen affirms, making a sharp left “John and I will go and hang around in the warehouse, Andy - you tail any suspicious vehicles,”</p><p>Andy holds his tongue but knows he looks pissed off. At least Gwen wasn’t trying to get <em> him </em> kidnapped. The car stops in an empty alleyway.</p><p>Andy reluctantly accepts “<em> Fine </em>, but at the first sign of danger, I’ll calling for back-up,” </p><p>“Fine,” Gwen snaps, staring at him.</p><p>John looks between them “Have you two ever thought of having sex?”</p><p>Andy feels his eyes ache with the strength of their roll.</p><p>Gwen wrinkles her nose and ignores John “We’re going to need to blend in. Andy, give John your coat.”</p><p>“You what?” Andy pulls his coat closer to himself.</p><p>“It’s not really my style,” John says, eyeing the item with disdain.</p><p>“I don’t care, if we’re going to blend in, we have to look a bit...rough,”</p><p>John arches an eyebrow, a flirty smile settles on his lips “Rough?”</p><p>“I’m trying my best not to be insulted here, Gwen,” Andy jibes.</p><p>“Oh, shut up. Andy - coat. Rhys left one of his in the back, I’ll wear that,” Gwen gets out the car and walks to the boot, taking off her jacket and replacing it with Rhys’, it’s baggy, but she pulls the belt tight and stuffs a beanie into the pocket, she knocks on the window impatiently. </p><p>John looks unimpressed but exits the car, pulling off his jacket, Andy’s expression mirrors the other man’s as they swap coats. The leather jacket feels stupid, John drowns in Andy’s thin kahki parker and if his face is anything to go by, he hates it.</p><p>“Gwen, don’t look at me. I look like a child,” John says dramatically, throwing a hand over his face.</p><p>Gwen smirks “Andy, take the car. I’ll send you a location as soon as we know it. We’ll go and see if we can get some more information from around the docks. Keep your phone on you. We’ll call if we need another pair of hands,”</p><p>“Brilliant! What do I do between now and then?”</p><p>Gwen shrugs “Don’t care, just don’t go missing!”</p><p>She chucks him the keys “Come on, John, I thought you liked rooms full of strangers,”</p><p>“Ha bloody ha,” John deadpans “see you later, cute stuff. My jacket suits you,”</p><p>Andy feels like he shouldn’t be taking compliments from men who discreetly carry knives and threaten civilians.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ianto starts to remember. Dr Larson can't be having that.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Morning all! Hope you're all doing well - yesterday was really rough for me, I'm currently stuck in my flat in London whilst lockdown happens and I'm used to travelling to different places most weeks so I really felt the confinement of the city all day. Anyway! A new day, a new chapter. </p><p>I was kind of hoping to get this fic to 100 kudos before it's completed, so if you're enjoying it so far and you haven't pressed that beautiful button, please consider doing so! As always, your comments have been brightening up my day, so if you have anything to say please feel free to post something.</p><p>Well, be prepared for quite a bit of angsty-ness, but the payoff is worth it - trust me!</p><p>Have a great day!</p><p>(PS. Does anyone know how to change the formatting? I'm a bit sick and tired of these huge gaps between text, but I can't seem to find a way to change it that isn't sitting at the computer individually taking out spaces. I'm using Google Docs on 0.5 spacing.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dr Larson?”</p><p>Looking up from her laptop, Dr Larson waves her assistant in.</p><p>“What is it, Anna?”</p><p>Anna hurries through the door, a report in one hand and a tablet in the other, she neatly puts the report on the desk.</p><p>“It’s Jones, he’s been down to see Harkness. We have the whole conversation transcripted, it seems the initial programming is failing. He admits to feeling lied to by us, I think he might be an issue ...unless we wipe him again,” Anna says, leafing the papers over to the conversation before tapping on the tablet for Dr Larson to see the two men talking.</p><p>“It seems like seeing Harkness has triggered something in his brain,” Dr Larson muses “how intriguing,”</p><p>“I would recommend a full wipe of the last two weeks,” Anna says carefully, watching her bosses face whilst surreptitiously fixing the pin on her hijab.</p><p>“No,” Dr Larson says sharply.</p><p>“Dr Larson, I don’t think - -,”</p><p>“You misunderstand me. I want to go deeper. Wipe him completely and then hook him up to the programming. It’ll take twelve hours, tops. I want him ready to do whatever we want. He’s a natural sharp-shooter, his eidetic memory, we need him on our side,”</p><p>“A full wipe could leave him catatonic,” Anna counters, worriedly.</p><p>Dr Larson shakes her head “I’ve been working on some calculations. I think I know how much he needs,”</p><p>“You knew...something like this was going to happen?” </p><p>Dr Larson’s face twists “I like to be ready for anything.” she looks down at the papers and flicks through a few more “we wait until he’s asleep - he’ll be easier to handle. Get the machine ready,”</p><p>“Yes, Dr Larson,”</p><p>“You can go, Anna,” Dr Larson says with a final conviction “I’ll meet you in the containment room at eleven,”</p><p>Anna nods and starts to leave the room, when she glances back she sees Dr Larson watching the recording and she’s <em> smiling </em>.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“This place is disgusting,”</p><p>“Tell me something I don’t know,”</p><p>The warehouse is littered with bottles, broken glass, stained clothes and ratty mattresses (not to mention a whole host of other nasty paraphernalia). There’s one corner that both John and Gwen know they’re absolutely <em>not</em> exploring.</p><p>“Looks like we’ve got to wait for them to come home,” Gwen says, looking around.</p><p>“How <em> will </em> we pass the time?” John replies smoothly.</p><p>Gwen throws him a look “Let’s get high up, get eyes on the floor,” she looks around for a staircase, there’s a catwalk running across the left hand side of the building “up there,”</p><p>They climb up the stairs, staying as quiet as they can, stepping over discarded needles and make-shift crack pipes. They reach a vantage point, Gwen settles down and pulls out her phone, switching it to silent.</p><p>“We wait until something happens,” Gwen says lowly “we don’t want to spook them,”</p><p>John looks the opposite of thrilled but nods nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>One of the worst things about being held in a cell, is the complete loss of time. With his watch gone, Jack has no idea whether or not it’s night time, afternoon or somewhere in between. The food has been taken away, and he’s grateful because the smell alone was putrific. </p><p>The cell is dim, there’s the sound of movement echoing down the long corridor but none of it goes in intensity. Jack has no plan, no escape route, no upper hand. He’s completely alone. His usual proactivity is dwindling, and for the first time in a long time, he feels the dread of inevitability creeping into his psyche. Gwen has no idea where he is, John is probably long gone and he can’t blame Rhys if he’s tried to convince Gwen to not put herself in danger - they’ve got a future to think about.</p><p>He chokes on his breath as finality begins to settle like dust. But he knows he can’t give up, it’s just keeping up the energy to fight is draining. And then there’s Ianto.</p><p>Broken, brainwashed and brilliant <em> Ianto. </em></p><p>He wishes he could believe Ianto would storm in, brimming with memories, and unlock the cell door. Maybe he’d give him his gun and they’d escape, together.</p><p>Jack sighs, it echoes around dirty walls. Unable to remember a time where he’d felt quite so hopeless.</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ianto Jones dreams every single night. They, more often than not, transform into vivid nightmares.</p><p>The faces he dreams of don’t strike any kind of familiarity within him. He feels nothing for them, a woman with dark hair, a sour-faced man, another woman - petite with clever eyes behind a set of glasses. They flash across his vision as he sleeps, alongside the noises of single gunshots, machine gun fire and explosions. He thinks of how much blood he sees in his dreams, his hands are coated in it, his clothes stink of it, he feels it dripping down his face. There’s creatures and machines, red and blue lights dazzling across his eyelids. It’s like hell.</p><p>Most dreams finish with the sensation of choking on air, a throbbing in his lungs, or a blade at his throat, wanting to scream but not having the energy.</p><p>He wakes, when his body deems the stress too great, he turns on the nearest light and spends long stretches of time sitting and panting, sweat heavy on his brow. Running his hands through his hair, he haunches over, elbows on thighs.</p><p><em> Liars </em> , says a voice at the back of his mind <em> liars, liars, liars. </em></p><p>The fingers in his hair grip and pull, his nails drag against the soft skin of his scalp until the distraction of discomfort drowns out the voice.</p><p>When he pulls his hands back, he sees his own blood under his fingernails. He dutifully uses the sink in the corner to scrub away the blood, he crawls back into the bed and pulls the blankets over him, they’re scratchy - military issue. The fabric feels familiar but by the time he tries to figure out why, he’s halfway to sleep and his mind wanders down disused and abandoned memories.</p><p>
  <em> “I’ve taken the liberty of buying some fresh linen,” Ianto says, climbing down a ladder into a small room “if you insist on me staying then I’m taking the moral high ground on bedding,” </em>
</p><p>Ianto inhales sharply - the image is so clear in his mind, his eyes flick underneath his eyelids.</p><p>
  <em> Jack manouveurs himself from horizontal to sitting, he’s topless, although Ianto somehow finds that unsurprising “Is that you hinting at staying over more?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No. It’s me pointing out that your bed sheets are older than my grandparents...who are dead,” Ianto quips dryly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack shrugs “If it ain’t broke…,” he reaches out to pluck the carrier bags from Ianto’s hands, the younger man finds himself complying wordlessly and watches as they’re dropped unceremoniously next to the bed. Jack pulls at Ianto and he complies, kneeling on the bed so they’re at eye level. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ianto gives Jack a serious look “Jack, I’m almost certain one of your blankets nearly rubbed the skin off my back the other day,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack smirks “Didn’t hear you complaining about it at the time,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I bought bedding. Please, just try to be grateful,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack huffs, putting his arms around Ianto’s waist and pulling a reluctant expression (although Ianto knows it’s just Jack being dramatic) “Thank you,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re welcome,” Ianto shifts and slips from Jack’s grasps, he whines but Ianto shushes him, reaching up to the hole in the ceiling and retrieving two paper cups, he hands one to Jack (it’s instinct, he just knows which one Jack’s is without checking). </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Coffee too? I’m a little suspicious now,” Jack says, smiling and settling into the position from a few seconds before.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well, I’m not hiding anything in the basement,” that was a secret, Ianto can sense the way the throwaway comment feels deeper than just a joke between them. He tries to cover the awkwardness with a laugh but it falters. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack shakes his head “Don’t joke about it; you’re better than that,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s Ianto’s turn to shrug, he feels guilty at the cheap remark and casts his eyes down. A warm hand cups his face. Jack smiles sadly at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If I don’t joke about it, it’ll be forgotten. And I don’t want to forget,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jack looks at him curiously, he goes to speak but another voice, female, from above, gets there first. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ianto? Jack?” </em>
</p><p>Ianto startles awake. He’d<em> never </em>dreamt so clearly before. That was a memory, he’s certain of it. It felt so real. Sighing, he tries to even out his breathing. He hears the door to his room open and he instantly sits up. The familiar shape of Anna, Dr Larson’s assistant, comes into his line of sight, followed by two soldiers. Ianto tenses.</p><p>“We need you to come with us, Mr Jones,” Anna says politely, although Ianto knows it’s not a question. He throws the blanket off himself and nods. One soldier drops behind him and the other in front, Anna walks by his side as they weave through the rooms and corridors. He doesn’t question this evening interruption, his brain still reeling from the dream.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Dr Larson is finishing the last modifications to the computer programming when the door opens and Ianto walks in, tailed by a guard. She smiles tightly at him and gestures to a chair that looks vaguely familiar, it’s been bolted to the floor and is most definitely <em> not </em>built for comfort.</p><p><em> Liars </em> the voice in his head shouts, but he pushes it down. Dr Larson draws a chair from behind a desk and moves it in front of Ianto, sitting down and crossing one leg across the other.</p><p>“We’ve noticed a spike in memory activity from you,” she says coolly, Ianto tries to keep his face poker straight “and we think it’s for the best, for the safety of others as well as yourself, if we chose to remove those memories in order for you to be able to do your work better, the <em> good work </em> you’ve been helping us with these past few weeks.”</p><p>“I have been remembering things - fragments mostly,” Ianto confesses apprehensively.</p><p>Dr Larson nods, understandingly “I think they impede what we want to achieve here. We can’t have you running around with half-formed memories, unable to fully trust us because of Torchwood programming, can we?”</p><p>Ianto shakes his head slowly.</p><p>“And you do understand that by taking these memories, it helps make you better at your job? We explained that your resurrection would come with a ‘you scratch our back, we’ll scratch yours’ agreement?” Dr Larson smiles, but Ianto can’t see any warmth in her eyes.</p><p>“The memories -...I don’t feel like I was a bad person,” he says, remembering his conversation with Jack earlier.</p><p>Dr Larson’s jaw shifts “That’s the beauty of Torchwood. They lulled you in with false pretenses. You were lied to, and at the cost of so many lives - including your own. Let us free you of this confusion, Jones,”</p><p>Ianto feels his mind running with faces of people he doesn’t know, monsters he doesn’t have names for and places he feels nothing towards. It’s confusing and distracting. He nods.</p><p>“Thank you,” Dr Larson says, patting him on the knee, she stands and moves her chair back to its original position and nods at Anna, who wordlessly moves over and begins fastening straps around Ianto’s wrists.</p><p>“I said I’d do it, you don’t need to tie me down,” he looks up at Anna but she doesn’t meet his gaze, Ianto feels his breathing begin to pick up “wait, no - -,”</p><p>With his wrists held down, Anna moves to his legs and he shifts them but she grabs each one and secures them, too.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she whispers from where she finishes fastening them down, and looks up at him guiltily.</p><p>Ianto’s expression clouds with confusion “What?”</p><p>Anna moves to behind the chair and straps his head back. He’s trapped. With no idea what Dr Larson really has planned.</p><p>Anna walks back to Dr Larson’s side and they talk in hushed words for a minute or so, occasionally glancing at him. He struggles against the restraints.</p><p>They agree on something silently and pick up a multitude of electrodes from a nearby lab table, Anna approaches Ianto and begins to precisely apply them to parts of his temple and forehead. Ianto tries to move his head but it’s useless, again, Anna refuses to look him in the eye. Dr Larson pulls his t-shirt down and attaches a few to his upper chest, then one to each arm. Anna brings over a box of wires and starts to attach them to the electrodes, she methodically unwinds each one and Ianto hears something being fiddled with behind him as she plugs them into something.</p><p>Whilst this is going on, there’s barely a noise. Dr Larson taps away on a laptop and occasionally looks up to check Anna’s progress. The assistant sighs and walks away from Ianto, once again standing by Dr Larson’s side.</p><p>Ianto squeezes his eyes shut.</p><p><em> “...or the first sign of exploding,” </em> he feels a memory burst into his mind, sitting in a chair like this one, <em> pretending </em> to be electrocuted.</p><p>“We have to start now,” Dr Larson says, shrewdly measuring the emotion on Ianto's face. She taps a few keys on her computer.</p><p>Ianto suddenly remembers everything, his entire life flooding every corner, and he’s never known pain like it.</p><p>The room fills with the ragged sound of screaming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gwen and John find out who's behind the disappearances.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Morning, morning, morning. I sit here, coffee by my side, to post another chapter. Thank you to everyone who's been reading, I can't believe that I'm nearly at 1000 hits, that's pretty fuckin' wild. <br/>Please, if you haven't, hit that kudos button! </p>
<p>Massive thanks to Beleriandings for the tip on changing the format, as you might have noticed, things are a little less spaced and I'm hoping that might help people read it a little better, improve the flow (I don't know what I'm talking about - it just looks better mainly).</p>
<p>Have bloody lovely day, everyone.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em> John </em>. John! Wake up!”</p>
<p>Gwen smacks John and he springs out of sleep “Wh- uh? What?”</p>
<p>“Shh! Look!” Gwen points across the warehouse, a group of the homeless were starting to enter the building, mostly men from their gait but a couple of women followed in, coats pulled tight around them against the cold.</p>
<p>It takes twenty minutes for them to settle, Gwen counts seven of them in total. They crack open a few big plastic bottles of beer and cider, pulling up the old mattresses, pillows, duvets and making a vague social area. Someone has a few candles and they’re lit, too. Gwen and John sit, high up, watching over them.</p>
<p>“This is pointless,” John mutters “we could be out there looking for proper leads but instead - -,”</p>
<p>He’s interrupted by a crash, one of the doors to the warehouse bangs open and soldiers pour inside.</p>
<p>Gwen hurries to stash her phone and gets on her feet, grabbing John and shoving the beanie from her pocket on her head “We’ve got to go. Now!” she tugs him down the steps and to a visible spot. Two soldiers rush over and grab them, Gwen puts up a fight but only half-heartedly, John cackles and allows the soldier to grab his hands and roughly lead him to the exit.</p>
<p>“Manhandled by soldiers. <em> God </em>, I love Saturday nights,” he cackles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Andy waits, just like Gwen asked, overlooking the road that juts from the docks into the city. He’d seen a large van swing into the docks ten minutes prior followed by a Land Rover; that’d looked fishy, so when Gwen had sent him a text to say that they were about to be taken, he waited to see it again.</p>
<p>He takes a deep, calming breath, and suddenly a pair of headlights appear from a bend, he watches the two vehicles from before veer onto the city-bound road and Andy turns the ignition and tails it, not far behind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jack wakes to the sound of muffled screaming, he feels his heart drop into his stomach.</p>
<p>He<em> knows </em> that voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fucking hell it stinks in here,” John grumbles, moving his face away from a homeless stranger. They’re packed in like rush hour on the Underground, shoulder to shoulder and nowhere to sit. Gwen guesses there must be fifteen or twenty of them packed into the back of the van.</p>
<p>She pulls a face when John gets a bit too close. The van goes over a bump and John stumbles and nearly headbutts her. </p>
<p>“Jesus, surely it can’t be much further,” she hisses, wincing when the brakes slam on, they all struggle to regain their balance, especially the more intoxicated of the group.</p>
<p>The van eventually comes to a halt and there’s the sound of footsteps on gravel, the back doors open and there’s a hoard of soldiers, their weapons drawn.</p>
<p>“Out the van!” one of them barks and the group in the van burst into life, the others don’t argue and begin to file out, following a soldier who’s walking towards a huge facility with high windows and rendered walls.</p>
<p>“Looks like this is the only building for miles,” Gwen says quietly to John, he nods subtly and does a quick look around.</p>
<p>“You think he’s here?” John whispers.</p>
<p>“If this is who I think it is, they’ll keep everything on one site. It’s easier that way,”</p>
<p>They’re marched through a side door and into a narrow corridor, the soldier at the front stops and opens a door.</p>
<p>“In!” they shout, and the group are ushered into a large room. </p>
<p>Gwen quickly looks around the room, there’s high lab tables covered in an array of equipment, the other captives look nervously at one another. There’s the sound of heels on hard flooring and a woman comes into view, followed by another woman who looks rather nervous.</p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” Gwen says, dumbstruck “John, stand in front of me. <em> Quickly </em>,”</p>
<p>She grabs John and puts him in front of her, hiding her from the woman.</p>
<p>“Old flame of yours?” John snipes and Gwen shushes him.</p>
<p>“We’ve met before.” Gwen says lowly “I need to know what’s going on so <em> shut up </em>,”</p>
<p>The woman smiles broadly, but it’s icy cold “Hello, I’m Dr Larson. I know a lot of you have questions at the moment, and I’m sure you’re scared, but I’d like to reassure you that this is just all in the aid of research.” she nods to the soldiers lining the room, who are all holding their weapons in the groups direction threateningly.</p>
<p>“Ask what they’re going to do with us,” Gwen mutters to John.</p>
<p>John rolls his eyes but concedes “What’s going to happen to us?” he baits.</p>
<p>Gwen ducks behind John as Dr Larson’s eyes snap to him “We want to help you,” she says, smiling warmly “we’ve got a drug that needs testing, a drug that can cure any disease. We know that some of you suffer from terrible diseases, of no fault of your own. We want to give you a better quality of life,”</p>
<p>The group shifts uncomfortably.</p>
<p>“You’ll be taken into rooms and treated separately, any resistance will not be tolerated.” Dr Larson continues “<em> please </em>, let us help you,”</p>
<p>Gwen knows this is the moment, she steps forward.</p>
<p>“Dr Larson,” she says, pushing John out of the way, watching from the corner of her eye as the guns in the room all trained on her “do you really think you can get away with this forever? Kidnapping vulnerable people and testing drugs on them? Subjecting them to God knows what? Why do you need these people? What <em> exactly </em> are you planning to use them for?”</p>
<p>Dr Larson smiles - and this one is real “Gwen Cooper, it’s been a while,” she holds her hand up to the soldiers and their guns reflexively lower “we’re giving these people the opportunity to start afresh.”</p>
<p>“At what cost?”</p>
<p>“No cost. We want people to have the quality of life that they deserve.” Dr Larson turns to one of the soldiers “escort the others to the rooms, leave her with me,”</p>
<p>“I’m not going anywhere,” John steps forward, Dr Larson looks between the two and looks no less pleased, she nods and the soldiers move the group on, leaving only Gwen, John, Dr Larson and her assistant in the room.</p>
<p>“Anna, could you send in Mr Jones, please? Make a start on the volunteers, I’ll join you once I’ve had a chat with these two,” Dr Larson says, the smile has disappeared from her face.</p>
<p>Anna nods, eyes casting over the newcomers, and leaves the room. Gwen watches her go, confused, before turning back to Dr Larson.</p>
<p>“What are you doing to these people?” she demands, Dr Larson rolls her eyes.</p>
<p>“These <em> people </em> are the lost of our communities, they need help. We need test subjects, they’re the perfect candidates - the police don’t care about them, their families have given up on them. This is an opportunity for them to give something back,” Dr Larson explains “the drug we’re testing is a powerful cure for so many illnesses and diseases. In testing on them, they get another chance at life,”</p>
<p>Gwen blanches “You’re testing drugs on people without their consent,” she takes a breath “so what happens once they’re <em> cured </em>?”</p>
<p>“And how come no one else has noticed?” John interjects, Dr Larson regards him, she opens her mouth but as she does the door to the lab opens and a man steps into the room.</p>
<p>Gwen looks at the newcomer and she feels her blood run cold.</p>
<p>“Ianto?”</p>
<p>Gwen turns to John to check they’re both seeing the same person, he looks less shocked but very uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Ianto doesn’t react to his name and stands next to Dr Larson.</p>
<p>“Mr Jones was among the first recipients of the drug,” she says “he responded incredibly, going from worm food to breathing in under thirty minutes,”</p>
<p>Gwen looks like she’s going to be sick, she cautiously walks up to Ianto. He watches her, but there’s no recognition in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Ianto, it’s me. Gwen,” she says, there’s tears shining in her eyes.</p>
<p>Ianto’s face is still set like stone, Dr Larson looks between them awkwardly.</p>
<p>“We had a little problem with Jones here, after he had a few unauthorised chats with Captain Harkness. He started to remember the nonsense you’d planted in him. So we’ve wiped his memory; almost completely,” she says coolly, she brings a hand to the side of his face, he doesn’t react “I figured out how to delete things like recognisable faces, memorable places, all the useless trivia Torchwood fed him. All that’s left is a soldier.” she rubs his cheek with her thumb and Gwen is about to lunge for her but John grabs her.</p>
<p>“Don’t pick fights when you’re unarmed,” he says, holding her back, just as Ianto’s hand reaches behind him to produce a gun, flicking the safety off.</p>
<p>Dr Larson drops her hand, and smiles “I’d listen to him, Gwen,” she looks between them, smugly “I’ll leave you in some familiar company. I’ll be back soon,” she turns to Ianto “if they try to escape, shoot them,”</p>
<p>Ianto gives a short nod.</p>
<p>Dr Larson gives one final shit-eating grin before leaving. Gwen goes straight to Ianto.</p>
<p>“Ianto, listen to me, you might not remember me but we used to be close.” Ianto looks at her “you died, Ianto, and these people have brainwashed you. Trust me, please,”</p>
<p>John sighs and puts a hand on her back “Come on, he’s too far gone. We need to figure out how to find Jack,” he says quietly.</p>
<p>Gwen watches Ianto’s face for any recognition, but there’s nothing. She nods, reluctantly and follows John to the far side of the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Andy’s got both hands on the steering wheel, gripping it almost painfully. He’s parked in the far corner of an industrial estate in the arse-end of no-where, tucked into a shadow - hopefully not very noticeable. He looks around for any signs of life, but the empty van sits in the car park alongside a Land Rover. Andy had caught the movement of a side door in the far distance shutting just as he’d parked up.</p>
<p>“What do I do?” he mutters anxiously, tapping the tips of his fingers on the steering wheel.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gwen and John have to come up with a plan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good morning all! <br/>As some of you might notice, I've gone through every single chapter and changed the format. I hope it reads better than before. Another short one today, I'm afraid but we're properly on the home straight now.</p>
<p>I've also had an idea for another fic, although it's got a few holes in it so far and I doubt it'll be as long as this (but mainly it'll be less angsty). <br/>Let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who's been commenting and kudos-ing, this fic is so close to 100 kudos before it's completed, I'm so grateful.</p>
<p>Have a lovely day, see you all tomorrow.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We need to distract him,” Gwen says quietly, her back to Ianto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John eyes Ianto standing by the door and looks at her dubiously “And how </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> are we going to do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen grits her teeth “I don’t know. I was hoping </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>might have had more experience in that kind of thing,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>worked for a secret underground base, why are you relying on me?” John hisses back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand in stubborn silence for a few seconds until John concedes, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, there might be a way to distract him. But we’ve only got one shot,” he says, reaching into Andy’s jacket and producing the PDA. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen looks at him angrily “You’ve had that all along?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John frowns and discreetly brings it in front of him, quickly checking Ianto over Gwen’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I can just find the right frequency, I can create a resonance which’ll distract him long enough to get you out,” John says, looking back down at the PDA, before sliding the back off and revealing a tangle of wires.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure it’s going to work?” Gwen whispers, watching John fiddle with the PDA, quickly checking Ianto over her shoulder - he’s still standing with his gun drawn, but it’s at his side as he stares at the wall opposite blankly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack mentioned that he was trained in psychic training. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can create a noise that’ll trigger something - gimme a sec,” he winces as he tries to pull out a wire as quietly as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can do that with a PDA?” Gwen replies, a little shocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John smirks, the wire popping out of its solder “I’ve done more with less,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen decides she doesn’t want to know what that means and just keeps making sure they’re not being watched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The only problem is, I’ve had psychic training, too - Time Agency bollocks. So this’ll end up taking both of us out. It’s on you to find Jack,” John crosses a few wires together and twists them together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen swallows, but nods “Okay,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John lets out a small “Yes!” and turns the PDA over, tapping on the touchscreen a few times “right, it’s ready, you’ll have twenty seconds, tops.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen takes a deep breath “Alright - wait, does it hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John nods, grinning “Oh, yeah, it’s gonna hurt,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He taps the final button.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instantly, both John and Ianto fall to the floor - the younger man is covering his temples with his hands, fingers grasping at his scalp. Gwen, oblivious to the pain and the noise, bolts to him and grabs the gun from his hands. She turns to see John wincing on his knees, eyes screwed up in pain - she nods to him and then slowly opens the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s clear, from what she can tell. Gwen steps out and walks in the opposite direction of where they were brought. The far end of the corridor looks dark, but if there’s one lesson Torchwood has taught her - it’s that dark corners often hide bad things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanders down as quickly and quietly as possible, gun drawn but held down - just in case. The corridor ends, and opens into a low-lit deadend space, Gwen spots water leaking down from the ceiling onto the floor, turning into piles of congealed slime. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It looks vaguely reminiscent of the cells in the Hub, she peers around and sees the outline of individual cells. She peers into one in the half-light, squinting to see any movement or shape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack?” she whispers into the darkness, echoing hollowly back at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a groan from behind her and Gwen raises the gun, pivoting on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen?” a voice croaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief sweeps through her as her eyes adjust and spot a Jack-shaped lump on the cell floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, am I glad to see you,” she mutters, reaching into the overly large pockets of Rhys’ coat, pulling out the lock-picking device and placing it over the keypad. It beeps obnoxiously loudly and Gwen quickly looks up the corridor - still deserted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever John did to keep Ianto quiet, it’s working.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a final beep, the lock pops and the door swings open, Gwen hurries in and wraps an arm around Jack, hauling him up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, you big lump, we’ve got to get out of here,” she says in a fond but hushed voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you - ?” Jack mumbles, but he’s half delirious with blood loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seen Ianto? Yep, don’t worry, John’s on it. We’ll make sure we get him out, too,” Gwen replies, grumbling at Jack’s weight as she lugs him up the corridor, his boots clatter on the floor “come on, Jack, you’ve got to be quiet,” Jack groans quietly and reluctantly picks up his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They make it back to the room where they’d been left in by Dr Larson, Gwen takes one of her arms currently keeping Jack upright, softly depresses the handle, and opens the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d been expecting to see a fight, but instead she sees John laying on his back with Ianto passed out, John’s arm tight around his neck in a headlock. John’s panting with effort, but grinning nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knew you’d find him,” John says between strained breaths, he heaves himself from under Ianto’s unconscious body and heavily gets to his feet, Gwen closes the door behind them and props Jack up against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to go, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Hopefully Andy’s outside waiting for us,” she says striding over to a window and pulling back the shuttered blind in a vain attempt to get a scope on which direction to head in. She fiddles with the latch for a few seconds and hums in satisfaction before turning back towards the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John stumbles to a plug socket and rips out an extension cord, Gwen and Jack watch as he makes his way back over to Ianto and roughly rolls him onto his front, gathering the younger man’s hands together and tying them with the lead. They both give him an unconvinced look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get out the same way we came in. That’s where Andy’ll be if he managed to follow us here,” Gwen says walking back over to the door, wrapping an arm back around Jack and getting out the stolen gun “John, you take Ianto,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John sighs “God, fine,” he leans down, wincing, and manages to load Ianto over his shoulder. He grunts as Gwen opens the door and he forces his legs to take the weight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You first,” she says waving the gun towards the way they came in. John grits his teeth but manages to walk relatively quietly up the corridor. Gwen closes the door and follows, walking backwards with Jack sidled next to her, gun pointing back down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re just about to make it to the exit, the same one that leads onto the car park, when a door opens in the distance, Dr Larson walks into the corridor and spots their movements. Gwen reflexively shoots warning shots into the floor near her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go! Go! Get out, now!” Gwen shouts, launching herself and Jack out the door, firing a few more shots off for good measure and then slamming the door closed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen!” a voice calls from the shadows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy appears from a nearby treeline, he sees that there’s four of them and goes to John immediately, seeing his stumbling legs and takes Ianto over his own shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bloody hell, not light, is he?” Andy says, walking as quickly as he can towards the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door to the facility bangs open and Dr Larson emerges, anger written across her normally calm features. She turns and yells down the corridor and the four of them hurry faster to the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get in, get in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy opens the boot and rolls Ianto in, before dashing to the passenger side and throwing himself in. Gwen gets into the driver’s seat and barely checks to make sure John and Jack are in safely before throwing the car into reverse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on tight!” she says, spinning the car around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gunshots sound from behind them and the back windscreen explodes in a shower of broken glass, the car stops. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit!” Andy shouts, bringing his arms over his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John turns in the back seat to look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A row of UNIT soldiers stand, guns drawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen, go!</span>
  <em>
    <span> Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” John bellows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen growls and puts the car into gear, the car lurches, wheels spinning, and they exit the car park at full speed, turning dangerously down the entry road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get somewhere safe,” Gwen says, tapping the steering wheel “Andy, there’s a Sat Nav in the glove compartment, get it turned on - I need to get us back to somewhere familiar,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy wordlessly does as she says, Jack tries to hide a groan as he props himself up against the back seat “I know somewhere we can go,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen flicks her eyes into the rearview mirror and meets his gaze for a split second, looking back at the road and then back at him. He looks exhausted but serious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Gwen says “Andy, you got that thing booted up yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy fiddles with the Sat Nav, plugging it into the cigarette lighter “Yeah, what’s the address, Jack?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack goes to reply when a thunderous bang comes from the boot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John grins toothily “Looks like Eye-Candy’s woken up,”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's a very angry amnesiac in the boot of Gwen's car.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is super late because me and my flatmate got absolutely rat-arsed last night and now I'm fighting off a hangover with literally all of my spirit.</p><p>I'm going to quit whilst I'm ahead with this. I'll see you all later - after a nap that might restore my soul back into my body and make me forget that I spent the larger part of last night sat on a wall outside my shitty North London flat smoking, and now my mouth tastes like crap.</p><p>Have a great day, all. Please keep hitting that kudos button! This fic is so close to my goal!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>An hour later they pull up outside a house on the edge of Aberdare, not too far from one of the corners of the Brecon Beacons. Jack feels a bit more with it, his feet more stable on the ground as he gets out the car. The street is lined with old mining houses and swathed in darkness, illuminated at intervals by warm sodium streetlights, a dog barks in the distance and there’s the sound of water trickling into a drain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them grimace as they round the rear of the car, hearing the repetitive noise of someone banging on the boot lid. Gwen looks over at Jack, as does John and Andy. Jack nods towards one of the terraced houses, it’s typical Welsh miner character making it undoubtedly conspicuous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a safe house,” he says, he looks back at the car “we need to get him out without waking the whole street. I think I left some broad spectrum antidote stashed away - that should work,” he looks up and down the street, checking for people “John, Andy - wait here, make sure he doesn’t attract any attention. Gwen, with me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen nods and follows Jack as he walks to the front door of the safe house. Jack slides the lower part of the door handle to reveal a fingerprint reader. He presses his thumb to it and the door cracks as several locks pop out of place, sliding the lower half of the door handle back in place Jack presses down the handle and opens the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most noticeable feature is the smell of must, it’s so strong Gwen brings her sleeve to her face to cover her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ, it doesn’t half pong,” she says, looking over at Jack disparagingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugs “I’m the only one left who knows it exists. I haven’t been here for a while,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks around and then heads upstairs, Gwen notices a small and outdated kitchen, looking out on an overgrown garden cast in moonlight. The living room reminds her of her grandparents, all swirly fabric and outdated fringes attached to moth eaten furniture. A 70’s gas fire sits in what probably would have been a lovely hearth once upon a time, she smiles wryly at the rush of childhood memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s small, but it’s as safe as it gets for now</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gwen thinks mildly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s boots clomp down the stairs and Gwen turns to see him looking triumphant, a syringe encased in plastic in his hand. She nods and follows him back out to the car. The staccato of dull thumping echoing off the quiet street. John looks bored, Andy looks nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, he’s going to be agitated. John, I need you to make sure he makes as little sound as possible, Andy, grab his legs, Gwen - when I say, open the boot. This won’t sedate him, it’ll just make his muscles go weak,” Jack says lowly, unwrapping the syringe. John pulls off Andy’s coat and bundles it up in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowns a little appalled “Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffocate</span>
  </em>
  <span> him,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want him quiet or not?” John counters and Jack bites back a reply. He looks at Gwen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boot pops open and the burst into action, Andy pins down Ianto’s legs before he can kick any of them and John presses the coat over Ianto’s face before any noise can escape. Jack reluctantly presses the syringe into Ianto’s thigh and depresses the plunger. Immediately, the younger man's head rolls back onto the rough carpet of the boot and his legs feebly twitch but he doesn’t lose consciousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t got much time,” Jack says, replacing the cap on the needle and carefully putting it in his pocket. John threads his arms under Ianto’s armpits and Andy sweeps his legs out, Gwen keeps an eye out for wandering eyes or twitching curtains. Jack leads them to the house, opening the door. He drags a chair from the disused dining table and Ianto flops onto it, his eyes unfocused and limbs heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Jack says quietly, using the extension lead to retie him to the chair “Gwen, there’s an old washing line wrapped up under the kitchen sink, we’re going to need it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen nods and dashes to the kitchen, switching on the main light, the sound of a cupboard opening and then frantic searching before she returns with the washing line. She hands it to him and Jack makes short work of tying down his legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy reaches for the living room light switch, but John shakes his head “Best not, we don’t want to attract attention,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s probably going to make some noise, we need something to gag him with,” Gwen says, eyes looking around for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s bandages in the bathroom,” Jack says, tightly finishing the last knot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen heads upstairs and Jack stands up to look over his work - none of the line should come loose easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy walks into the kitchen and opens a few cupboards “There’s enough tinned food here to survive a nuclear fallout - let’s just hope some of them are in date,” he reaches for one and inspects the top “‘best before December twenty-twelve’ well, let it never be known that I’m ungrateful,” he pulls out another tin and does the same “looks like there’s enough food to last us a fair while,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John follows his lead and opens a few more cupboards, pulling out two tins, he pops them both open, one has tea bags, the other has powdered milk “Anyone up for a cup of tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy looks over at him, relieved “A cup of tea sounds bloody marvellous,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen returns with the bandages, and just in time, Ianto’s slowly coming back to himself as they finish tying the gag around his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at each one of them, furious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now there’s an expression I never thought I’d see again,” John says in an amused tone from the kitchen doorway, taking a sip of his tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack finally sits down on the sofa as Andy hands him a mug of tea. He sighs, eyes looking over Ianto. Gwen watches them both carefully from her spot by the window - the curtains drawn. Andy perches on the single armchair, eyes moving across the scene in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack takes a long sip of tea and then addresses the man, bound and gagged on the chair - his eyes coldly regarding Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t understand why we’ve taken you, but you’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>got </span>
  </em>
  <span>to trust us,” Jack implores “you’re not who you think you are - they’ve changed you. We’re going to undo what they’ve done, I promise,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s expression doesn’t change, he only blinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looks a little defeated as he stands up “I’m calling it a night. We’ll come up with something tomorrow - I doubt Larson will let us slip through her fingers for long,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on, what about the car? Won’t they be able to track it?” Andy says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen shakes her head “There’s a perception filter on the number plate; Tosh did it before…,” she trails off, her gaze growing soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy looks between a mixture of confused and reassured “Right, well someone better keep an eye on Rambo, here,” he nods at Ianto “rest of you look like shit so go get some kip,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen and John reluctantly nod “I need to call Rhys,” Gwen says, pulling out her phone “just in case they decide to go after him - I’ll go for a walk,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack doesn’t contest “Use the landline - it’s secure,” gesturing to an old rotary dial telephone on the mantelpiece. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she moves over to the phone and patiently types in the number.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come down in a couple of hours to keep an eye on him so you can get some sleep,” John says, patting Andy on the shoulder and following Jack upstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy nods, and stands up, taking their dirty mugs into the kitchen and depositing them in the sink, he hears Gwen talking to Rhys and decides to linger, looking across the garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upstairs, John shucks off his coat and looks around at the bedroom, there’s two single beds covered with dust sheets, he pulls the cover off to reveal simply hideous patterned duvets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you last update this house? Nineteen eighty-one? Not exactly on the right side of retro,” he comments shoving the sheet underneath the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack doesn’t answer, only pulls off his coat and rolls down the dust cover from his own bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know this whole situation is shit. But I’ve seen you get out of worse,” John says quietly “he’ll be fine...eventually,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nods and pulls back the duvet, before slipping his shoes off. He slides under the duvet with his back to John - the other man takes the hint and stays quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jack falls asleep, it’s unsettled and irritable. He wakes up a few times and shuffles around on the bed in a vain attempt to get comfortable, the duvet is too warm, then too cold. Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees a pair of eyes looking back at him - cold and unfamiliar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eventually falls into a dreamless sleep around four in the morning, just as the sun begins to rise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning arrives, cold grey light filtering in from the edges of curtains.The house is cold and unforgiving. Gwen stands against the kitchen counter watching the water boil in the saucepan, the bubbles rise to the surface and break, she idly loses track of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen turns, Andy’s got a concerned look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, turns the gas off and fills her mug with hot water “Yeah. Just thought I was done with all this,” she lazily gestures to the current situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like Torchwood’s a lifelong commitment,” Andy says wryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen nods numbly, bringing the tea to her lips and taking a small sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I’m on duty tonight. Do you think it’s safe for me to go to work? I don’t fancy getting in trouble with Temple,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sets down her mug and takes a long breath “I don’t want you to be in danger, Andy. I can’t imagine staying with us will be safer than being at work.” she pauses “if you need to go, just make sure you let us know you’re alright,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy smiles sadly “Will do,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to turn away but stops “Any chance of a lift to the station?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen smiles “Yeah, we’ll head off in ten. Keep your phone on you tonight, just in case,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Andy’s safely deposited at the station, and with a flash of his police badge he’s on a train heading back to Cardiff. Gwen watches the train pull out of the station and heads back to the safe house.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things are coming to a head.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good morning! We're nearly there! Four more chapters to go! Thanks to you all for sticking with this fic, I really appreciate it. And (finally) I had the inspiration to write something new, which I can't wait to put up soon. Just a fore-warn that there's probably a few mistakes in this chapter, I rushed the check-through because I'm a bit busy today.</p><p>See you tomorrow!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When she arrives, she finds Ianto gone and John lounging on the sofa eating an apple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John smirks “Amnesiac needed the loo.” he says simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen wrinkles her nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Happy thoughts,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she reminds herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Jack’s got it </span>
  <em>
    <span>in hand</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” John adds lewdly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She holds up her hand “Shut up,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John just smiles widely “Do you think he’ll ever remember? I mean, not like there was much to remember anyway. What did he think about before? Coffee, coffee, Jack, aliens and coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Gwen can bite back a reply, Jack reappears with Ianto a few seconds later, the younger man looking even more pissed off than the night before. Jack pushes him back onto the chair and kneels as he secures the restraints, Ianto doesn’t resist, possibly because he knows he’s outnumbered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack stands up and wrings his hands “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto scowls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to figure out what we’re doing,” Gwen says “kitchen, now, come on,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them file into the kitchen and John gives Ianto a warning glance before he closes the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what’s the plan?” Gwen says, looking at Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack sighs “Right, we make bringing down Larson a priority. That antibiotic </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> exist, it’ll cause World War Three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen agrees, she knows there’s no such thing as miracle cures, and there never will be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We find those who’ve been used as test subjects and see what we can do to reverse the effects,” Jack continues “the fact that no one has spoken up about forced clinical trials makes me wonder if any of the people given the antibiotic ever get to leave. We destroy the facility, wipe everything clean, and get back here as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Eye Candy? What happens to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of us needs to stay, we can’t have him left by himself - he’ll try to escape or make enough noise the police get called.” Jack pauses for a second “Gwen and I will go back to the facility - John, you stay with Ianto,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John looks like he’s going to argue, but he sets his jaw and begrudgingly says nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. We’ll leave in an hour, I’ve got some maps upstairs. Gwen, get the Sat Nav from the car, we need to figure out whether there’s more than one way to Larson’s UNIT facility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen leaves the kitchen, grabbing the car keys from the sideboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack checks that Gwen’s gone and turns to John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a hidden basement, take Ianto down there - it should be safe enough. If we don’t come back within three hours I want you to take him and lock this place up. Whatever they’ve done to him, there’s got to be some way to reverse it - promise me you’ll look after him,” Jack says, walking over to the wall that runs underneath the stairs, he pushes it and it pops open on a set of hinges, leading down to a cellar. John spies a number of cobwebs and grimaces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What am I supposed to do until you come back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep trying things to make him remember - anything. Tell him about Torchwood, see if that triggers something,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front door slams and Jack swings the wall back into place. Gwen appears a few seconds later, Sat Nav clutched in her hand. She switches it on and flicks through the history until she reaches the day before’s date.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got it,” she says, passing it to Jack. He glances over it and nods to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let's get this on the map and see whether we can get in with the element of surprise,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon further inspection of the maps, there’s only one road into the facility. Jack sighs and runs a hand through his hair and Gwen feels dread settle in her stomach. John shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve lost the element of </span>
  <em>
    <span>total</span>
  </em>
  <span> surprise - just make sure when you get there you don’t dawdle. Get in, do what you need to do and get out.” he says, leaning back on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a crash from downstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I hate being the babysitter for a grown man,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John swings his legs off the bed and lets out an exasperated breath as he heads downstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen waits for a couple of seconds before speaking “What do we do once we get there? We’ve only got two guns - do you have anything we can use?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shakes his head “But I’ve got an idea,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyebrows knit together in confusion “What idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, John reappears in the doorway “It appears he’s still the same drama queen - found him on his back with his legs in the air,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in what feels like months, Jack feels a real smile spread across his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour later they bundle into the car, Gwen insists on driving (“It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> car, Jack,”), and they’re speeding towards danger. Jack stares out of the window, watching the mid-afternoon rush of traffic pass by in a blur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think there’s a way to get him to remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack turns to face Gwen, who quickly looks at him before moving her eyes back onto the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope so,” Jack replies “it should all be there, we just need to figure out whatever Larson’s done to him, try and reverse it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen looks satisfied with that answer “Feels like old times - heading into battle,” he reaches across and covers one of Jack’s hands with her own “he’ll be okay, Jack,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gives her a weak, hopeful smile “He better be,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pause a few miles from the facility and go over the plan, Gwen tucks Ianto’s gun in her waistband and reaches over to the glove compartment, it springs open and Jack’s Webley sits in it’s holster. Jack grabs it and chuckles before securing it to his belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a quick agreement, they set off on the final leg of the drive to the facility; the atmosphere in the car moves from calm to tense - the sensation of building anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They swerve into the empty car park, both in the knowledge that they have to be quick. They spring out and run to the building, following the perimeter. Gwen leads, they turn a corner, and then another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should be round here somewhere,” Gwen says softly, tilting her head towards a corner. Jack nods and they keep moving - they turn the corner and Gwen gently pushes at the windows, none of them budge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she hisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something catches Jack’s eye a little further down, one window not sitting flush with the others, but only just. He taps Gwen on the shoulder and points a little further down - instantly Gwen rushes to the window. She crouches below it and points to herself and then at the window above. She slowly rises to her feet to peer inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, the first time I met you, you were holding a gun to my head,” John chuckles, tipping back on the dining room chair “don’t worry, within a few hours I returned the sentiment,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing John had noticed about the cellar of the safe house was that it was bloody freezing, the second was that he was pretty sure he’d intruded on several different species home turf - including a mouse, which had taken one look at him and scarpered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting Ianto down into the cellar had been a tough task, between making sure he didn’t run away and making sure he was back on the chair, John was halfway to tired by the time he finally took a seat himself. A single light bulb strung up on what looks like the world’s most dangerous wiring precariously hangs from an old beam, the light coming from it is dim - it reminds John of where he found Gray, rotting walls, a heavy smell of damp, artificial light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far Ianto had looked bored at best. He hadn’t tried to say anything except for when he was thirty, hungry or needed the toilet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> you would have done something to counter the programming. I don’t know what, but you’re smart. I think it’s all still there, just buried deep.” John continues “all it takes is the right words in the right order, or a picture - some kind of catalyst,” he pauses, thinking “Toshiko would know what to do, she was the cleverest of your little gang. Owen wouldn’t have even known where to start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s brow furrows for a fraction of a second, but long enough for John to clock it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John leans forward “They’re familiar, aren’t they? Those names,” he gets to his feet and loosens the gag, shuffling it down to his throat “don’t make any loud noises or that’s going straight back,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto wets his lips and his expression changes to uncertainty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John takes the other man’s silence as a step forward “Let me tell you about Torchwood, Ianto Jones,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen slowly moves up until she’s looking through the window. She breathes a sigh of relief when her scout finds that the room’s deserted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s clear, gimme a knee up,” she says, Jack gets onto one knee and Gwen steadies herself as she uses it to haul herself up. She gets her fingertips under the seal of the window and pulls it open before trying, as gracefully as possible, to duck under the window and into the room. It’s not as assassin-spy as she was hoping, but she’s standing on the right side of the wall, so it’s a win nonetheless. She props the window open properly and watches as Jack smoothly hoists himself up, landing like a gymnast (</span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody show off</span>
  </em>
  <span>).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen reaches behind her and pulls out her gun, moving towards the door - when she looks behind her she sees Jack leaning over a gas outlet - like the ones they had in school for science lessons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gwen says as quietly as she can, he finishes whatever he was doing and reaches to his holster pulling his gun out “I’ll go see where they’re keeping the people they’re testing on - you go deal with Larson, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nods “Be careful,” he adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen smiles “You too,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Gwen gently opens the door - gun drawn, checks for people and then walks down to the cells. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack watches her go, before choosing a door and slowly turning the handle.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John's stuck helping an amnesiac remember his life, Gwen's trying to find all of Larson's experiments and Jack's not as trapped as Dr Larson thinks.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Afternoon! <br/>I would apologise for my tardiness today but I've had a weird 24 hours. So I'll just post this here and back away slowly. I've had a quick look over it and hopefully the spelling and grammar isn't as appalling as chapter sixteen (boy howdy I looked over that yesterday evening and cringed). <br/>Thanks to everyone who's been commenting still, and kudos-ing, I'm literally so grateful for you sticking with this story. I'm just waiting on someone to beta a fic I wrote the other day, so there'll be new material coming reasonably soon.</p><p>Have a really lovely day.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ianto is quiet as he listens to John - he doesn’t understand exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s listening so intently, but there’s something in him which is hanging onto every word the other man says - it’s irritating because he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to believe any of what he’s saying and he can’t help but be captivated by the stories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- - you see, there were five of you, well, there </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> six but some stuff happened and she ended up killing herself, blah blah, all very tragic,” John says, pressing on “and your base, headquarters, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was in Cardiff, underneath this big sculpture - trust Jack to plant himself under the biggest Freuidian slip in the whole of Wales, talk about showing off. That water tower was a phallic metaphor if ever I saw one, I can’t believe no one ever said anything. There were two ways in, a side door by the Bay and this paving slab with which was surrounded by a perception filter - -,”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perception filter. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto squeezes his eyes shut as a sharp shooting pain blossoms on his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto?” John narrows his eyes and leans closer, watching him carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto doesn’t answer, blinks the spots of pain away from his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John waits a few seconds before continuing “I went down on the paving slab when I first visited your little Hub, it was a tad grubby for my liking - but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers, can they?” he chuckles “my first impression of you was that you were very dry humoured. By the time I reached the ground level you had a tray in your hand for my weapons - like an efficient little office boy,”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Light reflecting off a silver tray, it’s smooth under his palm. Cups balanced on it. A familiar weight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain isn’t as strong but it’s sharp and instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else?” Ianto says, his voice like gravel as pain shoots around his temples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John smiles, sharklike, and it’s frighteningly genuine “Did I mention Torchwood had a pet dinosaur?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen reaches the cells in the far end of the corridor, she checks behind her, no sign of anyone. She keeps her gun handy, safety on, just in case. Approaching the first cell, it’s so dark she’s not sure that she can see in but something shifts - it’s darker than the surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Gwen tries, the shape moves and shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help,” comes a weak response “...help me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen watches in horror as the figure drags itself nearer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What have they done to you?” she whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What little light within the cells illuminates the person’s face - Gwen manages to discern that it’s a young man, no more than twenty-one or twenty-two; his face and any exposed skin is covered in red, irritated spots - some stand in clusters, some are solitude but they all look raw and agonising. His clothes hang off him, multiple sizes too big for his small frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They promised I’d get better,” he wheezes, his accent thick with drowsiness, and Gwen leans back a little but tries to look sympathetic “they gave me this...injection. It helped for a while. But then this...it itches so badly,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen pulls out a small torch from her pocket “Do you mind if I have a look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man shakes his head “Can you help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try, sweetheart. Stay still,” Gwen clicks the torch on and checks it on her palm and then points it near the young lad, careful to not dazzle him. She shines the light on the skin of his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She inhales sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s...that looks like chicken pox?” she whispers, confused “they </span>
  <em>
    <span>cured </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, but you were still susceptible to </span>
  <em>
    <span>chicken pox</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lad’s eyes droop “Something went wrong,” he mumbles, his head falling onto the cell floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey! What’s your name?” Gwen urges, she wants to reach through the bars but logic tells her not to risk it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elis,” he manages, before his head hits the floor with a dull thump, he gives another rattling breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen tries not to panic “Elis, come on, wake up for me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man remains still. Gwen gets to her feet frantically and moves to the next cell, but when she looks over the woman lying in this one she knows she’s too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first door had led to an empty lab, Jack had quickly dashed in and quickly made a few adaptations to the gas before moving out and further up the corridor - another open door, another easy get-in, get-out. He’s closing the door when someone interrupts him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’d be careful, Captain. Anyone would think you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>snooping</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack turns on his best charming smile and turns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snooping? Never heard of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very funny,” Dr Larson prowls up the corridor flanked by two soldiers, guns drawn “I’m not sure if these two work out, Jack, I didn’t have time to ask them,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack scoffs and arches an eyebrow “I’ll take what I can get,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure,” Dr Larson says with a cursory once over “although Mr Jones might have something to say about that,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, he’s not the jealous type,” Jack replies smoothly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson chuckles “An answer for everything. Where’s Gwen? And your friend? I presume someone’s looking after Jones,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re all safe. I came alone,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson narrows her eyes, untrusting “Don’t take it personally, but I don’t think I’m going to trust you on that. Chaps, why don’t you escort Captain Harkness to my office? I’ve got a few questions for him. After you, Captain,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were the teaboy, and a cute one at that. You knew the in’s and out’s of Torchwood - I heard you’d been part of the company in London at some point, too,” John pauses, bringing a cup of tea to his lips and taking a long sip “things went downhill after you died, I’m afraid. Jack scarpered into space at the first opportunity and thought he could drink himself into forgetting everything that had happened, Gwen hadn’t got anyone left so she was helpless. Without you ...Torchwood just... fell apart. None of them noticed that you were the glue that held it all together. Not until it was too late,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was I killed?” Ianto says quietly, his gaze still suspicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John wrinkles his nose “Alien plague, can’t imagine it’s the nicest way to go,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I breathed the air</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Ianto whispers, his eye-line falling to the floor “I don’t understand any of this,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been wiped, Ianto. Someone’s gone through your brain with a scrubber and bleach, they’ve tried to eradicate everything that makes you who you are. I know you don’t trust me right now, not that you ever have, but you have to rely on your gut-instinct, even if every part of you is telling you that it’s wrong,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto looks back up, eyes cold “Tell me more,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen moves from one cell to another, her torch illuminating bodies or half-dead experiments. Out of the dozens of cells, only a handful seem lucid enough to be considered healthy. She feels tears start to well in her eyes and she shakes her head, desperately trying to steel herself from the death all around her. She counts approximately six ‘survivors’ and pulls out her phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Need backup. CF9 4JN. Handful of survivors from illegal experimentation. Get here as soon as you can. Need to get the building clear.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen hits send and pulls out the lock-picking tech from her pocket, slamming it on one of the keypads to the cells. It takes seconds and the door pops open, Gwen goes in and bites the bullet, wrapping her arm around the waist of a short girl. She’s got pink cheeks, which is a lot better than the others. Gwen lugs her out and props her against a wall - then moves to another, quickly glancing up the corridor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please sit,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack does as he’s told, taking the seat opposite Dr Larson’s desk. He sees his vortex manipulator laid out, virtually untouched on the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, it’s rude to take things from people without asking,” he says, inclining his head towards the device.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson shrugs, sitting across from him, the guards stand by the door “I can never resist a puzzle,” she reaches to it and turns it in her grip, considering it “I’m guessing it’s alien? None of my equipment can figure it out,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack makes a nonplussed face “Not as alien as you might think,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson lets out a breathy laugh “Why do I get the feeling that’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> all over,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack raises his eyebrows “I try my best,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure,” Dr Larson replies cynically, dropping the manipulator on the desk “so why come back, Jack? Looking for more resurrected ex-Torchwood staff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m putting a stop to all this,” Jack says, his calm facade slipping “people being used in unsolicited drug experiments, you’re using </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span> like rats. It ends today,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson looks at him skeptically “Forgive me for not taking that threat very seriously,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack turns his gaze to the office, looking around “It’s a nice place you’ve got. Certainly an upgrade from the pokey lab under Cardiff Castle. But it feels a little - remote. Like UNIT didn’t want you too close, just in case something </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They learnt their lesson from Height’s mistake,” Dr Larson says shrugging “we’re situated far enough from the population to stop anyone from poking their nose in,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or far enough away to be forgotten…,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Dr Larson says sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack smirks and waves a hand airily  “Ignore me, I’m sure they check up on you. It’s just, well, I’ve never known a facility to have such lax security. Almost...underfunded. Maybe even overlooked,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They leave me to my work. They trust me,” Dr Larson replies defensively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nods, smirking “Oh yeah, I’m sure, ignore me. You’ve had this enhancer for what, nearly a year? I’m sure they’re just waiting for a breakthrough. Nothing to do with letting you just work yourself into the ground,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson’s eyes flicker to the guards on the door “It hardly matters, I’ve got you exactly where I want you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you felt like that,” Jack says archedly, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson grits her teeth “Flirt all you like, Jack, it’s not going to help you, you’re going straight back to the cells,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gives her a half-formed shrug “Maybe,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A phone alert trills from Jack’s pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr Larson is on her feet within seconds, her hand plunges into his coat pocket and pulls out a battered Nokia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’ll be Gwen.” Jack says with a smile “I think you’ve worked in a lab for too long, Dr Larson,” he takes a deep breath “is it just me, or can you smell gas?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final push in shutting down Dr Larson's experiments.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, hello, hello.</p><p>Wowee over 100 kudos, thank you all so much! I really really appreciate you all taking the time to read this story. We're so close to the end, so, as ever, let me know what you think and if you've really enjoyed it why not bookmark? I'll be back tomorrow for the penultimate chapter!</p><p>Have a lovely day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gwen’s helping the final, barely alive, man out of one of the cells when she hears a gun safety click behind her. She slowly lowers him to the floor and turns to face the newcomer. </p><p>It’s Dr Larson’s assistant. And she looks terrified.</p><p>“You’ve got to stop,” she says, her hand shaking violently. She tries to steady the gun with her other hand - it doesn’t work, the weapon trembles in her grip.</p><p>Gwen holds out her hands “I’m getting these people out, this place is about to become a crater in the ground. What’s your name?”</p><p>The woman swallows nervously, her eyes wide, the gun still pointed at Gwen “Anna,” </p><p>Gwen smiles and slowly tries to reach for the gun “Anna, these people need to be taken to a hospital. If you help me get them out, you’ll be doing the right thing, trust me,”</p><p>Anna takes a few unsteady breaths and Gwen winces as her finger touches the trigger “But - but Dr Larson - -,”</p><p>“My friend’s dealing with her,” Gwen says calmly “Anna, <em> we don’t have time for this </em> , we need to get out. That’s why you were working here, right? To <em> help </em>people,”</p><p>Internal conflict is clear in Anna’s eyes as she weighs up her options, she takes a shaky breath as tears start to well in her eyes. Gwen pauses her advance for the gun.</p><p>Anna lets out a long breath and slowly lowers the gun, Gwen smoothly reaches for it and slips it into the waistband of her jeans.</p><p>Gwen gives Anna a grateful smile “Good, thank you,” she goes back to the man slumped on the floor “help me get them out into the car park,”</p><p>Anna moves towards some of the more frail test subjects and threads her arms underneath armpits.</p><p>“Let’s get out of here,” Gwen says, leading the way.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Dr Larson’s brow furrows and she takes a deep breath “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Gwen’s collected whoever’s left and she’s getting them out. We’ve flooded the ground floor labs with gas; if she doesn’t get a reply the whole place goes up in the next two minutes,” Jack says triumphantly, standing up with his hand outstretched.</p><p>“You’re lying,” Dr Larson says, shaking her head, clutching Jack’s phone.</p><p>Jack laughs “Try me,” he challenges.</p><p>Dr Larson takes another breath “I can smell it. Oh, my God. Get out. <em> Get out!” </em></p><p>Jack lunges for his vortex manipulator and pockets it, before turning his heel and bolting for the door. The two guards abandon their post and run as fast as they can. Jack sprints, he bypasses the last four steps on the way down the staircase and runs for the exit. The doors open and he sees Gwen, her hand on the lightswitch. She looks relieved as he rushes down the corridor, he can taste the gas thick in the air.</p><p>“Three behind me, let them clear and then do it!” he shouts as he passes her.</p><p>Gwen spots three figures “RUN!” she yells and they all push each other in a vain attempt to get to the door first. The two guards make it into the open, followed shortly by Dr Larson, all of them panting.</p><p>Gwen checks for movement and then flicks the switch, turning heel and running for cover.</p><p>The corridor bursts into flames, glass breaks catastrophically somewhere on the side of the building and Jack feels the force of the heat as the lab is engulfed in flames.</p><p>They watch as the building is consumed with fire, crackling and sparking, sending half burnt paperwork spiralling into the sky. Vertical office blinds billow from gaping holes that used to be windows.</p><p>The howl of police sirens behind them announce the arrival of back-up. Gwen raises her eyebrows as Andy appears from one of the squad cars.</p><p>“Took your time!” Gwen says sarcastically, but the smile on her face proves otherwise.</p><p>Andy shakes his head “Long time no see, Dr Larson,” he says reaching for a pair of handcuffs “I’ve got a police cell with your name on it,”</p><p>Dr Larson sighs in defeat and says nothing, only turns around for Andy to snap on the cuffs. Gwen and Jack watch on as she’s taken Andy’s police car, ducking into the backseat without any protest. The guards do the same, their weapons on the ground - they’re bundled into the back of a police van. A welfare officer and a pair of paramedics move over to the group of homeless people huddled by Gwen’s car and they’re slowly coerced into the back of the awaiting ambulances. Anna gives herself over to the police without putting up a fight - Gwen gives her a half-smile as she watches as she’s escorted to a police car.</p><p>Andy slams shut the car door and walks back to Jack and Gwen “What’s the plan then? Blame it all on a gas leak?”</p><p>Jack shrugs “Surprise us,” </p><p>Gwen shakes her head, chuckling softly.</p><p>Andy groans “Brilliant. You know, <em> I miss </em> the days when you lot used to clean up after yourselves. <em> Although </em> saying that, this might just get my foot in the door with Melanie from HR, well that or a promotion,”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Andy gets a statement from both of them, as per police protocol, and soon Gwen is slipping into the driver's seat of her car, Jack lets out a long sigh once he’s in the passenger seat, letting his head hit the headrest.</p><p>“Right, that’s the easy bit over,” Gwen says, pulling out her keys and slotting one into the ignition.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack says quietly, watching as the firefighters try to get the blaze under control. </p><p>They pull out of the car park and head back to the smaller, and tricker, battle they left behind in Aberdare.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>John feels the phone in his back pocket vibrate, he pulls it out.</p><p>“They did it, they’re on their way back,” he says, looking up at Ianto “did you want to know anything else? My knowledge of Torchwood generally is, perhaps, a bit limited but I’ll try my best,”</p><p>Ianto opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it.</p><p>“No, go on,” John prompts, shrugging “we’ve probably got an hour,”</p><p>“Jack - the way he looks at me. It’s different from you and Gwen,” the names sound like they’re unfamiliar on his tongue, John looks like he wishes he hadn’t encouraged him.</p><p>“Yeah, he would. You two...had a bit of a thing,”</p><p>Ianto ponders this for a few seconds “Will any of this make sense eventually?”</p><p>John shrugs “<em> Now that </em> I don’t know, I’m afraid. I hoped maybe talking about Torchwood might trigger something in you, but the programming looks pretty set-in. I’m sure Jack has a few ideas,” he leers for a second and then then looks bored “it’s no fun when you’re not being snarky back at me,”</p><p>“Just another part of me gone,” Ianto says.</p><p>“I hope not,” John says, and Ianto can’t quite figure what he means by that “I’m going to make another cup of tea, want one?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Gwen and Jack arrive just under an hour later, Jack opens the front door and Gwen’s eyes go wide.</p><p>“Where are they?” she says, looking around.</p><p>“There’s a safe room in the cellar, just in case Larson found us,” Jack goes through to the kitchen and places a hand on the wall, it swings open.</p><p>“I’ll be down in a sec, I just need to call Rhys,” she says, heading back into the living room.</p><p>Jack nods before descending down into the cellar, Ianto comes into view and Jack gives him a weak smile.</p><p>“Welcome to the party,” John says dryly, getting to his feet.</p><p>“Any joy?” Jack asks.</p><p>“A few things caused a bit of a jolt, but apart from that, nothing.” John scratches absent-mindedly at the back of his neck.</p><p>Jack looks at Ianto “What do those jolts feel like? Like memories?”</p><p>Ianto shakes his head “More like muscle memory or reflex. Just glimpses of it. Seems random,”</p><p>A crestfallen look settles on Jack’s features as Gwen steps down into the cellar, a small, warm smile on her face “Rhys is okay, I’ve told him it’s over,”</p><p>Jack turns to Gwen “Do you have any more Torchwood tech?”</p><p>Gwen shakes her head “Only the PDA and lock-picker, most of the other stuff was too big and <em> we were </em> in a bit of a rush,”</p><p>“Well it was worth asking,” Jack says, taking John’s vacated seat “we need to find out what Torchwood One used as part of their psychic training. God knows what Yvonne Hartman did to them,”</p><p>Ianto chokes on air, his head falls back and his eyes roll, his body shakes against the restraints.</p><p>“<em> Ianto </em>?” Jack says urgently, springing forward and gripping the younger man’s shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Memories flood through Ianto’s brain, and it fucking <em> hurts </em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pain feels like it's tearing Ianto apart.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is it! </p>
<p>I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it - and thank you to those who have followed from the beginning and been enthusiastic about every single upload, it's made the past nineteen days worth getting up for.<br/>The next chapter is the epilogue, and I'm going through it with a fine tooth comb to make it as satisfying for you all as possible. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to kudos, I'm honestly so grateful - it means so much.</p>
<p>So, until tomorrow! Have a great day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Yvonne Hartman. </em>
</p>
<p>A well-groomed woman looking vaguely amused on the other side of the counter.</p>
<p>
  <em> It’s my first day.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Let me get a napkin.  </em>
</p>
<p>Miriam getting angry when he asks for <em> another </em> early payday.</p>
<p><em> My name’s Yvonne Hartman, I work for an organisation called </em> Torchwood <em> . </em></p>
<p><em> What’s Torchwood? </em>He feels like he’s asked that before. He knows that word.</p>
<p><em> You look like you need a drink. </em>She said her name was Yvonne, she seems nice enough.</p>
<p>
  <b>God, the pain, every single nerve is ablaze with white hot agony.</b>
</p>
<p>He’s drunk on Elderflower woo woo’s and he knows it. He’s a sad drunk. </p>
<p>
  <em> I wake up, and I ask myself ‘is this all there is?’ this day after day struggle. </em>
</p>
<p><em> There is magic and wonder, and a universal struggle. </em> The way Yvonne says it, it’s like a promise, like certainty.</p>
<p><em> Tell me more. </em>He wants that certainty.</p>
<p>
  <em> Aliens?  </em>
</p>
<p>That’s impossible.</p>
<p>
  <b>Excellium.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ianto you’re going to have to go through with this. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Remembering the first time was less painful than this.</b>
</p>
<p><em> Welcome to Torchwood, Ianto Jones. </em> He only met Yvonne half an hour ago, on his front doorstep of all things and he feels like he’s known her for months.</p>
<p>
  <b>Ianto feels like his head’s going to explode.</b>
</p>
<p><em> Have you met the new researcher, Lisa? </em>  Yvonne’s perfectly manicured hand clutches the arm of a shy-looking woman holding a clipboard.</p>
<p><em> Do you like camping? </em> He can’t afford anything else. His sister’s up to her eyes in credit card debt (again).</p>
<p><em> It’s the Tower, it’s under attack. </em> He could hear the screams before he saw a Cyberman turn the corner.</p>
<p>
  <em> Help! Help me! </em>
</p>
<p>Dragging Lisa out from between sheafs of plastic sheeting.</p>
<p>
  <b>He’s certain he’s screaming, but his ears are ringing too loud, every fibre of him feeling like he’s being pulled apart.</b>
</p>
<p><em> You </em> were <em> bleeding. </em> He knows this man, but he doesn’t want <em> him </em> to know that.</p>
<p><em> There’s no job for you here, and there never will be. </em> </p>
<p>Yes, there bloody <em> will </em>.</p>
<p>
  <em> So you’re not going to help me catch this pterodactyl, then? </em>
</p>
<p>Playing the part. </p>
<p>
  <em> And this is Ianto Jones, Ianto cleans up for us and gets us everywhere on time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Someone’s shaking him but he can’t respond.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Coffee. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>His hands tighten, nails digging into his palms.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Tidying. </em>
</p>
<p>Finding assurance in repetitive actions.</p>
<p>
  <em> Sleep. </em>
</p>
<p>Repetition.</p>
<p>
  <em> Ordering food. Flirting with the delivery girl - a change from being invisible. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The smell of the Tourist Office. The way the bead curtain felt when he ran a strand through his fingers. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>There’s hot tears in his eyes, burning paths down his cheeks.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Lisa. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>The room feels like there’s no air. His throat is constricting.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Desperate hands grabbing at clothes but there’s a gear stick and a steering wheel in the way, it feels like relief, like repentance.  </em>
</p>
<p>It's a turn of events, to say the least, waking up next to your boss.</p>
<p>
  <em> Bilis. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>He’s certain that he’s going to die from this pain.</b>
</p>
<p>Jack abandoning them,</p>
<p>The Master.</p>
<p>The Himalayas. Being so cold he thought he was going to die.</p>
<p>Wondering if Jack's left them all forever.</p>
<p>Adjusting to a new way of life.</p>
<p>Blowfish.</p>
<p>Jack coming back.</p>
<p>
  <em> Did you miss me? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>The memories move faster and the pain increases, Ianto didn’t even know that was possible.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Standing on a rooftop as the Rift closes. Running down a derelict hospital corridor. A gunshot in a car park. Dancing on an emptying dance floor. Tosh. Owen. A Dalek. Children frozen in place. A glass chamber. Knees hitting cold, marble floor.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Closing his eyes. Falling into darkness. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Ianto thought a bombardment of memories was painful, then waking up afterwards was a surprise to say the least.</p>
<p>He’s on his back, he knows that without even opening his eyes because gravity feels <em> odd </em>. He’s half off a chair, one leg on the floor, the other still strapped to a chair leg. He groans and brings a hand to his head. His voice feels hoarse.</p>
<p><em> That’ll be from the screaming, then </em> he thinks, wincing.</p>
<p>“Hey, you with us?” </p>
<p>“<em> Urgh </em>,” he daren’t open his eyes. There’s a migraine settling across his forehead and it feels like fire, every muscle in his body aches with tension and his cheeks feel cold - upon further inspection by his hand they’re wet.</p>
<p>“Ianto?”</p>
<p>He moans as his temple hums with pain, turning his head from the light and pressing a palm into his closed eye in an attempt to soothe it. He takes some shuddering breaths, letting his lungs fill and empty.</p>
<p>“<em> Ianto </em>,” the voice presses.</p>
<p>“<em> What </em>,” Ianto croaks, bursting into a fit of coughs.</p>
<p>“Are you... okay?” </p>
<p>Ianto does an internal check. <em> Legs, arms, back - aching but fine </em>. His head is a write off, especially after the coughing, pain is licking around his skull and when he tries to open his eyes, he regrets it immediately and closes them.</p>
<p>“Just about,” he tries to move, but his leg’s still tied to a chair “can <em> someone </em> please untie me from this sodding chair? And maybe turn the light off.”</p>
<p>A startled, watery laugh comes from overhead, a pair of hands deftly unties his leg and it flops onto the floor, he sighs and takes a second. The light clicks off overhead and he grunts a thank you.</p>
<p>“What do you remember?” that’s Gwen’s voice.</p>
<p>“Uh, most things?” What kind of question is that? “Well, <em>except </em> how I’m on the floor,”</p>
<p>A familiar palm gently appears at his cheeks, he leans into it. It’s slightly rough but a thumb brushes at the skin under his eyes, soothing the migraine a little.</p>
<p>“Jack?”</p>
<p>There’s an excited laugh above him, but it sounds tearful like before. Suddenly there’s the feeling of body heat, and before Ianto can think about it too much there’s a pair of lips pressed to his forehead.</p>
<p>“Let’s get you to bed,”</p>
<p>Ianto feels fatigue spread through his limbs “That sounds like a bloody brilliant idea,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ianto sleeps for fourteen hours, with the occasional hydration and toilet breaks. The first time he wakes it’s dark, and he’s been tucked up in what feels like a double bed. He cracks his eyes open with his head still throbbing to see Jack passed out across the bed, his arm cushioned under his head. Ianto reaches out to push his fingers through Jack’s hair, disturbing the other man. Jack looks up, bleary-eyed, but smiling.</p>
<p>“Hey,”</p>
<p>“Hi,”</p>
<p>Ianto feels sleep tugging at his eyes again but he stubbornly fights it off “What happened?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry for now, just get some rest,” Jack says, brushing his knuckles across Ianto’s cheek “I’ll explain everything tomorrow,”</p>
<p>Ianto wishes he had the energy to fight him for an answer, but he doesn’t, so he sleeps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The answer is complicated when they finally talk the following afternoon at the dining table. It’s all a bit bizarre, but Ianto’s been a part of Torchwood for a long time now and he knows that he shouldn’t have expected any less.</p>
<p>From what they understand, Yvonne must have implanted some kind of behaviour into Ianto when he heard her name. Even with the programming and the wiping, all it took was her name to bring him hurtling back to the surface. He feels like he should know about it, but every time he thinks too hard it feels like his head’s going to crack open like an egg.</p>
<p>He wrinkles his nose when John brings him a cup of tea made of powdered milk and dried out tea bags, John just shrugs and smiles.</p>
<p>“So... I was dead?” Ianto says, sipping the very much not-tea.</p>
<p>Jack nods, reaching for Ianto’s free hand “Yeah,”</p>
<p>“And they had a funeral?” Ianto says, Jack looks down at the floor.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Gwen gives him a sad smile “there was a lot of people, quite the turn out,”</p>
<p>“That’s something, I suppose,”</p>
<p>They fall into silence.</p>
<p>“So what now?” Ianto asks, cautiously “does this ‘Miracle Cure’ have an expiry date?”</p>
<p>Jack rubs his thumb against Ianto’s knuckles “We don’t know,”</p>
<p>Ianto lets out a humourless chuckle “Bloody typical,”</p>
<p>“All of the research went up in flames with the facility,” Gwen explains “there’s nothing left,”</p>
<p>Ianto scrubs his face with the hand that Jack hasn’t got a hold of “So I just live every day like it’s my last?”</p>
<p>Jack lets out a laugh through his nose “Sounds pretty normal to me,”</p>
<p>“Sounds like Torchwood,” Gwen says, grinning.</p>
<p>“Dear god, and I thought it couldn't get any more domestic in here,” John complains, but there’s no venom in it.</p>
<p>Ianto looks at him “Thank you - for helping,”</p>
<p>John looks uncomfortable “Yeah, yeah - well don’t get used to it. It was only to stop <em> him </em> from drinking himself into the ground,”</p>
<p>Ianto looks at Jack who rolls his eyes waving a hand dismissively. That’s a conversation for another day, then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The drive back to Gwen’s is in relative peacefulness, Jack and Ianto commandeer the back seats. Jack refuses to let go of Ianto’s hand for the whole journey, John makes snide comments about them being married and Jack just laughs. They reach the cottage with the daylight dwindling, a sunset hanging low over the valley, the sky lined with clouds in pinks, oranges and purples. Rhys is out of the cottage to meet them, Anwen in his arms. Gwen runs to him and presses a kiss to his lips and gathers Anwen in her arms for a hug.</p>
<p>John gets out of the car but doesn’t head for the house, Jack understands.</p>
<p>“Thank you for everything,” he says, it’s genuine and honest, John smiles but there’s an edge of sarcasm to it.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t a piece of cake, but then when is it with you?” John replies, he steps in front of Ianto.</p>
<p>“Eye Candy, don’t waste your second chance,” he holds out his hand and Ianto takes it in a firm handshake, it feels bizarrely business-like, almost friendly. </p>
<p>John waves to Gwen and Rhys “I’ll be back to watch that property show!” </p>
<p>Rhys laughs and nods “That’s a promise, mate, I’ll have beer next time,”</p>
<p>John grins and moves back to Jack, Ianto takes a step backwards to give them a little space.</p>
<p>“Always knew you had it in you,” Jack says, but John waves a hand in front of his face.</p>
<p>“We’ve never been sentimental, don’t start now,” he says firmly, he pauses for a second and then leans forward - pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek “you’ve got him, hold on with everything you’ve got,”</p>
<p>“I will,” Jack promises quietly.</p>
<p>John gives him an amused sideways look and steps back, giving a final wave before heading back down the drive to his ship.</p>
<p>Ianto steps forward to take Jack’s hand.</p>
<p>“He’ll be back, don’t worry,”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One Year Later.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, well, wow. I never believed that I would have the patience to sit at my computer every day for twenty days and post a chapter, and yet here we are.<br/>I'd like to just say another huge shout out to Alicia/Flamingbluepanda for beta-ing, it's not everyday someone agrees to go through 103 pages of fan fiction without really knowing whether it's going to be a good read.<br/>I'm going to stick a bit of background stuff in the end notes, just to mop up with and cover my bases for anyone who might have questions.<br/>Thank you to everyone who kudos-ed, commented, subscribed, bookmarked - you're all a big part of the reason I write, because half the enjoyment comes from someone else taking something from your work.<br/>I published a new one-shot last night which I'm quite proud of, so why not check that out?</p>
<p>So, have a lovely day, please enjoy this final chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Epilogue:</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One Year Later</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen! I want that paperwork on my desk by the end of the day,” Jack says, poking his head out of his office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen rolls on her chair into his view and beams “It’s nearly finished, I’ll be done before lunch,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack nods and then cranes his neck around a corner “Andy, you got those police reports?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy appears from behind a computer bank “Yeah, I’ll send them over now,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Jack winks at Gwen and disappears back into his office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto balances a tray with mugs brimming with fresh coffee as he descends down the new steel frame stairs from his pristine coffee machine. He hums to himself as he places one on Andy’s desk, then Gwen’s, before taking the final two into Jack’s office. He pushes the door open with his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coffee, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Ianto announces, lifting the mug off the tray and placing it on the desk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack looks at him, smiling broadly “Music to my ears, Ianto, thanks,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Ianto says, taking his own mug off the tray and slipping the tray under his arm. He returns the smile before looking out of the window, across the new Torchwood Hub. Jack had likened it to a phoenix being reborn in it’s own ashes. Ianto had wondered whether (if phoenix’s did exist) they too had to deal with hundreds of random body parts strewn everywhere. Excavation had been a grizzly affair with the amount of bodies that had been accumulated in the morgue and cryo - but he tries not to dwell on that, there had been quite a few bits of alien tech that had survived which felt like a positive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles, it’s not the same as the old Hub but it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only salvageable piece of architecture found had been the giant cog, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Made in Wales</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ stamped dutifully on it - that had made Ianto smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s Welsh engineering, for you</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks acrimoniously </span>
  <em>
    <span>indestructible</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Water Tower had been recreated up on the surface level, and as a homage, a skeleton version protruded through the floor into the new base, riftless and waterless - Ianto was relieved to find out the latter part, he’d always hated cleaning the filter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Computer banks are clustered sparsely around the open space, the medical lab had been a complete write-off so it was reinstated down where the old conference room had been. Jack’s new office was near enough where it had always been except now the wall was completely glass - looking out across the new vast space. But that’s what Ianto enjoyed about this new Hub, it’s unfamiliar familiarity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack had been so careful those first few months he’d got Ianto back, both of them unsure of the properties of the cure, he’d all but bubble-wrapped him until they had a (very) heated discussion about how Ianto was supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> when Jack was constantly one step behind him (it had lead to some heated make-up sex, which they were both grateful for). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, Jack promised he’d not try to be so overbearing, although it was followed with an eye-roll (Ianto took it nonetheless).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d tried to live like normal people for those short months, Ianto falsified some paperwork, set up a bank account, went to work in a coffee shop - nothing to shout about, but enough to pay his way and get him out of their new </span>
  <em>
    <span>shared</span>
  </em>
  <span> flat. He came home each day from his shift and sank into the sofa, deflated. Something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>missing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Deep down, he knew exactly what it was. He wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>Torchwood</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted that life again, because, really, it’s all he’d ever known.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken some persuading (and Ianto wasn’t adverse to playing dirty). Jack reluctantly agreed, knowing that neither of them could really master the whole ‘normal life’ thing after the life they’d had before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a strange twist of fate, they found that the testing facility exploding had inadvertently torn another hole in the rift - cracked a small fracture </span>
  <em>
    <span>wide open</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They’d realised the hard way when they heard reports of a hoard of (presumably pissed-off) Weevils being sighted in scrubland near the burnt out lab scaring the shit out of some local kids drinking Stella and smoking spliffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Welsh Assembly had quickly agreed that having a team specialising in extraterrestrial threats was probably a good idea in this situation (again), they’d passed funding within a week. Ianto had drawn up all the business proposal plans, Jack had roughly outlined what they needed in order to have a working base again - within four months they had a cavernous room in which to work under the Plass. Jack cooked up some more retcon, the laborers forgot they ever built it - the world moved on . </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which had led directly on to finding a team. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen was ecstatic, agreeing before Jack had finished asking the question; Andy was slightly more hesitant but eventually said yes (slightly disappointed that joining Torchwood didn’t lead to a Captain title). Martha had agreed, given that her and Mickey were looking to get out of London anyway. It had all slotted together against all the odds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust Martha to take off the one weekend that we’re in need of a doctor,” Jack says, sifting through more paperwork.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto turns to face him, pointing a finger “Don’t even think about calling her, she hasn’t had a moment’s peace since we were reinstated,” he says firmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack gives him a wolfish smile “Y’know, I like it when you get all </span>
  <em>
    <span>bossy</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto rolls his eyes “Just...let her have this weekend with Mickey. There’s no rush, I’ll put the body into cold storage and she can thaw him out on Monday morning,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack gives a half-hearted shrug “Whatever you say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boss</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The younger man throws him an unimpressed look, Jack laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not the same, is it?” he says after a beat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I don’t think it should be. It’s a chance for a fresh start.” Ianto replies, turning back to look out the large panoramic window, eyes still finding new places to explore. He lets out a small, contented sigh and drinks some of his own coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soft footsteps approach from behind and a hand slides the tray away from under his arm, Ianto let’s his grip relinquish. Jack takes his coffee and sets it down on the desk, before wrapping his arms around Ianto’s waist - holding him tight and tucking his chin on the younger man’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All of this... is because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jack says quietly, looking out over Gwen and Andy, who are sitting at their desks furiously typing, the new gang-ways, the secure weapons room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto turns his head and meets Jack’s gaze “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
  <span> All of this is because of Torchwood, I’m just superfluous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack presses a kiss to his cheek “No, Ianto Jones, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen’s voice crackles through the intercom “Come on, lovebirds, work to do. Just had a call from St Helen’s Hospital. Apparently no-one’s died in nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>twenty-four hours</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto lets out a long sigh and pulls away from the embrace, heading to Jack’s new coat stand “Why do I get the feeling it’s about to become a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>busy week?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>fin</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Excellium Explanation</p>
<p>I was listening to 'Blind Summit' and I was overjoyed to hear that Ianto survived Excellium, a good enough reason for him to be able to survive the concoction Larson puts into him. That’s why he reacted the best, because there had already been something in his system that made his whole body stronger. So yeah. He didn’t remember because Yvonne wiped him so often, so in regaining his memories I think it would have been something that he knows of but doesn’t really understand - a side effect of having his brain messed with so much: the psychic training, the retcon, the programming Yvonne pushed into him. His trigger word was her name, so naturally I imagined that that would, out of everything, be the only thing that could drag him out of any deep embedded memory loss, especially with Yvonne not being mentioned very much within the Torchwood canon post Doomsday. Her name being mentioned whilst he was at Torchwood would have had no effect because he already remembered, but as soon as there was memory programming, I kind of imagine it like a fish hook - dredging all the old stuff to the surface. I wish I was one of those really imaginative writers who could have fantastic stuff fall into their laps, but I literally couldn’t think of any other ways for him to regain his memories and not stretch the entire fic into like...forty chapters. I’d rather keep it short and sweet. I hope that answers any questions.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos, comments and bookmarks are appreciated! They make me type/proof read faster!</p>
<p>I've written other stuff, check out my other works and I'm on tumblr, too.</p>
<p>sherlockpond.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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